


The Bridge: Paradise Lost

by vectoring34



Category: Godzilla - All Media Types, ウルトラシリーズ | Ultra Series, 流星人間ゾーン | Ryuusei Ningen Zone | Zone Fighter (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Pre-Corruption Ultraman Belial, big amalgamverse slugfest, it doesn't end anymore happily for our man belial than in canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:35:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 53,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22370389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vectoring34/pseuds/vectoring34
Summary: For millennia the Ultra race have held peace in the cosmos, using the power that they have been blessed with in order to protect the weak and vanquish evil. But peace never lasts forever and all paradises eventually crumble. The wings of a hydra and the magic of a warlock mark the beginning of the end for the Ultras' Golden Age, and change the lives of young Ultras Ken, Marie, and Belial forever.
Relationships: Father of Ultra/Mother of Ultra
Comments: 19
Kudos: 12





	1. Nebula

"Hey. Do you think you’re going to get to at least HALF my cut of the fight?" A rather cocky, young Ultra spoke to his compatriots as the team flew through the vacuum of space towards their destination at breakneck speed. He had a single fin running down the middle of his head, with metallic “sideburns” of a sort framing his narrow eye lenses. Power crackled along the red markings over his body, showing off the red Ultra’s inherent strength.

"You sure about that?" His team member, a fellow young, red Ultra with bull like horns tilted his head rather doubtfully towards the first Ultra, "I'll end it faster before you know it, Belial,” he countered, blue sparks crackling between his energy conducting horns. 

"Tch. We'll see, Ken." Belial huffed as he turned his gaze toward the path ahead.

"Boys, boys, you'll both do fine, no need to get into a contest." The voice of another Ultra, a blue female with a pair of what would resemble twin tails on a human and a single crest, with a row of studs forming vertically down her navel. "Besides, we all know I would be the clear winner."

"Of course, your highness" Belial drawled sarcastically.

"Truly, you stand superior to us all, Marie," Ken spoke, as he did a mock bow to Marie.

"ATTENTION!" A stern voice cut through chatter, jolting all into silence. Their commander, whom's appearance was unlike any of the Ultras present. His body was prominently a blue and silver color scheme with the limbs covered in blue, the chest being silver with two red lightning bolts converging down the navel to form a V shape. Atop his head stood a cross shaped antenna, and on his forearms were gauntlets carrying a salvo of missiles. Zone Fighter looked upon his charges before continuing with the briefing.

"This is all the information we have on hand for our targets. Local warlord by the name of Judah, operates with his siblings; Mold & Gina. They've been terrorizing this system with guerilla tactics for the past few months, and they've always slipped our grasp despite efforts. Just recently, they've initiated a full scale invasion of the capital of Paira. Now that is unusually bold for Judah. Reports are coming in that Judah has brought some type of superweapon with him for this battle. However, we have yet to ascertain the nature of it. Be careful, rookies, Judah would not attack so boldly if he wasn’t planning something. I’ll keep his armies off your back, but be careful with him nonetheless."

"It doesn't matter what weapon this scum brings with him, we'll beat him for sure," Belial nodded confidently, forming a fist and slamming it into his palm for emphasis, “Our righteousness cannot and will not falter!”

"Don't be so sure, Belial, overconfidence is often the downfall of many fighters, especially in the face of the unknown." Zone Fighter chided. Belial winced at the reprimand, putting his arms back to his side.

"Yes, sir." Belial pointedly turned his gaze away. With a nod of acknowledgement, Zone Fighter turned away from his charges and pointed out the stormy atmosphere of their destination.

"We're just about to arrive at our destination. Prepare for battle!" Zone Fighter ordered firmly.

"Yes, sir!" All three Ultras shouted resolutely as their postures tensed, ready for combat. Zone Fighter gave the command with a wave of his arm and the three Ultras charged off, ignoring the fires of reentry licking at their metallic bodies as they rushed into the storm. They could attack with confidence, knowing their mentor would keep the warlord’s armada off of their backs.

"This is where the fun begins." Belial could only smirk in excitement, all shame at the chiding gone from him.

“Do I need to carry around a recording of Zone Fighter saying ‘Belial, overconfidence is often the downfall of many fighters’ just to get you to focus?” Ken jabbed playfully, causing a stifled snicker to escape Marie’s composed features. Belial did not let it stop him, merely flying faster.

“Shut up, Ken.”

===================================

In an instant, a skyscraper was slashed in two by a metallic whip far surpassing the speed of sound. The screams of the populace below were drowned out, only by the chuckles of the one who had caused it, another ear splitting sonic boom following the malicious laughs and causing yet another high rise to fall. 

“Run, run, you little insects!” another booming voice called out, slamming feet the size of a bus down upon the fleeing inhabitants. In his black armored hand was a short ax; short relative to his 90 meter stature, in any case. The building-sized ax was hurled through a residential area, obliterating a few dozen buildings before returning to the claws of its owner as though a boomerang. “Ha! That’s more than you, Gina!” roared the massive spectre responsible for this destruction. His ebon armor had tinges of imperial gold along its edges, covering the whole of his scaly hide. Topping off the devilish impression were heavy pauldrons covering his bulky shoulders and short, jagged horns sweeping up from his skeletal helmet. 

“Enough, Mold. We can’t kill them all just yet. Stick to the plan,” replied Gina, no less wicked than her brother. His equal in height, she was more bandy and slender than he. If Mold was a gorilla, then Gina was a python. Her own golden armor reflected this, a helm shaped in the likeness of a great serpent shading her cold eyes. She wrapped her whip around her vambrace, its snake-like handle hissing with magical life, raising her hand to strike once more. “Of course, we can still make them run a little!”

The whip lashed through the air at high speed...but only its back half as the front was separated in a shower of sparks. The same crescent shaped wave of energy that had bisected Gina’s whip only just barely missed doing the same to her as the spectress lurched her upper half down to duck under the attack. 

“What th-” Mold’s disbelief was met with a heel colliding with his face at high speed, sending the armored warrior hurtling face first to the ground with a thunderous boom. He rolled to the side instinctively, barely avoiding a follow up stomp that would have crushed his head into the ground. “Ultras. Of course” Mold snarled as he rose to his feet. Gina rushed to his side, lashing her rapidly regenerating whip in defense of her blood. The pair of spectres stared into the eye lenses of Ken and Marie, Marie’s hands still smoking from using the attack to cut up Gina’s whip and Ken’s foot still buried up to the ankle in the streets. Belial arrived a second later, hovering in the air as energies coalesced around his crossed arms. 

“Time to die, filth” Belial viciously growled. The very sight of these spectres turned his innards, and only their deaths would be enough to make up for the damage they’d done. The people here had to see it, that they might hold their heads high without fear again. 

“Wait, something’s wrong!” Marie called out. Belial shot a glance at his partner, the question obvious in his lenses. “Where’s the third? There’s supposed to be three.”

“Belial, check to see if he’s flanking us” Ken called out, bringing up his fists and keeping an eye on the two before him. A subtle tilt of his head downwards made clear his secondary motives; buying time for the terrified crowds at their feet. The planet's scattering inhabitatants were a white, asteroidian-like species with a singular eye in their center, running on their two pointed legs as fast as they could. Belial snorted but paused the charging of his ray to look about the ruins of this city.

“This is a waste of time, we have Judah right in front of us!” Belial snapped back, pointing his finger at Mold. Gina burst into laughter as Mold was growled in irritation.

"I am Mold, not Judah. You imbecile!" Mold leveled his axe towards the Ultra. His hands clenched on the handle in anger.

"My apologies, I can't tell the difference between scum & garbage," Belial retorted coldly as he readied himself in a stance.

“Tch. My brother is finishing up our superweapon as we speak. Unbelievable, the power these vermin had in their soil and failed to use” Mold said, rubbing a finger down his ax’s edge before suddenly slashing down a building next to him to the horror of the assembled Ultras. Gina and her whip both hissed at once as she cracked it in the air. 

“Now, you have a choice to make, Ultras. Stop our brother, or save these useless peons” Gina growled. The three Ultras exchanged a glance, eye lenses flickering with horror. In a split second, they had made their decision. Ken grabbed the bracelet on his wrist and pulled it off, causing it to transform into a silver rapier in a flash of light which he pointed towards Gina. Marie’s hands surged with power, another crescent blade of energy forming and aimed right for Mold. Belial looked at his comrades for a second, and then flew away from the city at lightning speed. 

“Belial, what are you doing?!” screamed Ken at his teammate.

“Stop, we have to protect the city!” Marie followed up after Ken. 

“I AM!” Belial shouted back in retort. 

Breaking the sound barrier, Belial flew forward and ignored the cries of Ken and Marie behind him. They had good intentions, he respected that from his friends, but they had the totally wrong idea. Sure, they might be saving a few in the chaotic battle in the city, but if they could kill Judah, it’d all be over. They’d be the heroes who finally got Judah! It wouldn’t even be hard, Judah was all alone and if the movements of his siblings were any indication, he wasn’t anything special. Belial’s sharp lenses glowed as he spotted the warlord himself, standing at the side of some great, smokestack-topped machine that gorged itself on a glowing type of stone from the mountainside. It looked like some giant mining device, shovels excavating many hundreds of tons of soil from the mountain with every passing moment. It must be gathering fuel for the superweapon.

Belial wasted no time in an intro, merely bringing down both fists in a flying double ax-handle right onto Judah’s helmet before Judah was able to turn around. The golden armor made a sound like a bell as it was pounded and the warlord staggered backwards, being forced away from his machine. He looked much like a golden version of his brother, but the horns of his helmet had a more gentle, goat-like curve to them and spikes lined the pauldrons that led to an illustrious cape.

“Hrrr.. You ultras came faster than expected.” Judah growled, grabbing a heavy greatsword from the mountainside and hefting it up. He turned towards his opponent to see the Ultra stood alone in this fight. "You are a bold one." 

“Enough of this, I won’t let you finish your weapon!” Belial shouted, not wasting time and bringing forth his own weapon, his bracelet turning into a large staff to swing at Judah’s head from the left. The warlord parried it with his sword, a surprising amount of strength being held in the spectre’s arms. Belial did not let it faze him, flawlessly transitioning to a downward strike which collided with a loud ‘BONG!’ to Judah’s armored shoulders. Judah snorted like the beast that his helmet invoked, swinging back with aim to cut Belial in two. But his weapon was shorter than Belial’s, and the Ultra easily leaped back before landing a solid thrust with his staff to Judah’s gut, making the spectre double over in pain. 

Belial seized the moment, swinging out with a flying kick as he used his staff to pole vault himself forward. Judah’s feet dug divots in the ground as he slid from the sheer force of it. Regaining his composure, Judah tried to thrust forward his blade and impale the troublesome young Ultra. Belial did not flinch from the danger, getting as close as possible and letting the blade skid off his staff in a shower of sparks to rock Judah with yet another smashing blow to the warlord’s helmet. Still, the golden armor was well-made and Judah returned to the brawl with all haste.

Judah swung his sword down diagonally at Belial's head, not giving him time to dodge. So instead, Belial angled his staff to deflect the blade off to the side, putting him in perfect position to swing the other end of his staff at Judah's head. The spectre followed through with his slash’s momentum, swinging it back around upwards in a great circle and forcing Belial to jump back and evade. Now at a distance, Judah swung his sword overhead, sending a wave of purple flames at the Ultra.

Belial crossed his arms over his color timer and swung them to the side, sending a red horizontal blade of energy. The two attacks collided in an explosion of energy between them, forcing the pair of them even further apart.

Judah roared in frustration, slicing his weapon through the air and discharging another bolt of black power through the air. Belial jumped to the side, just barely avoiding the blast. Judah snarled and repeated the maneuver, hurling bolt after bolt towards Belial and forcing the Ultra to dance back and forth between them. 

“What’s the point of this? You’re not a match for me” Belial sneered, getting used to the rhythm and finding an opening after Judah overextended a swing in blind fury. Not letting it go to waste, he cracked the staff down on Judah’s hand and sent the warlord reeling, clutching at his hand in agony and almost dropping his sword. Belial wound up for another swing, preparing to cave in Judah’s skull. He saw no fear in the spectre’s scarlet eyes though. Why was he not afraid? A combination of a sudden triumphant laugh from Judah and Belial’s danger instincts screaming at full force and he flew out of the way as a massive energy beam from behind obliterated all the ground next to him in a fiery explosion. He tried to turn to face this new threat, but another blast struck him in the back, hurling him to the ground in smoking agony. Using his staff to stand up, Belial saw now the identity of Judah’s super weapon.

“Behold, MEGALOS, the Grand King of Destruction!” Judah boomed as the machine that had been devouring the mountain side rumbled to his side. It was huge, easily large enough that Belial could not even come up to its neck on tiptoes. The warmachine almost resembled a saurian of metal, with smokestacks forming a series of plates and spikes along its back and running down to a laser cannon armed “head”. The body bristled with missiles, its chest was aglow with another laser array, and the arms that had been tearing the mountainside apart now appeared to be far more than just simple digging tools. What had been an extraction tool was now a wicked pincer and what had been a shovel now seemed like a deadly bludgeon.  


[Fight Theme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WjXou-PI8dI)

"Grand King of Destruction? I doubt that," Belial growled incredulously. Still, the machine's huge stature was rather imposing. He swallowed his trepidation at this monstrosity, and charged it head-on with a warcry. Belial spun his staff around for an extra amount of momentum before slamming it down onto the head of Megalos, causing a very loud CLONG sound, causing the Grand King of Destruction to stagger and backpedal. Belial smirked, pressing his advantage, following up with a flurry of whacks. Only for Megalos to raise its arm up in defense with a sudden block with its metallic claw, stopping the weapon dead. Belial barely had time to even register that his blow had just been stopped so easily before a savage backhand with Megalos’s shovel-arm struck him in the face. The young Ultra warrior was sent flying backwards, his weapon flying out of his hands. He bounced off the ground twice, sending up clouds of dust with each explosive impact before crashing into a harder rock formation and finally coming to a stop. Belial staggered back up to his feet, holding the side of his jaw that was hit. 

"Megalos, don't stop until he's smoldering bones," Judah commanded, prompting the machine to rear its 'head' back and emit an echoing mechanical howl. For all of Belial’s efforts, it had only a few minor scratches in its paint job and one or two dents.

Belial didn't wait for Judah to finish and leaped at the machine while he was still speaking. “Okay, your little clanker hits hard, I-” Belial’s bragging was cut off by a metallic clang as his full-power uppercut connected with Megalos' jaw. It was a punch that could have broken the jaw of lesser kaiju and felled a skyscraper. But on Megalos, the effect was less than impressive. The machine only stumbled a step or two, whereas Belial froze for a moment before clutching his hand in pain. "Ow, and is hard…" 

Belial's grumbling was interrupted by necessity when he saw the smokestacks on the robot’s back erupt in flames as a bombardment of missiles fired up and converged on him. The Ultra quickly jumped back and high into the air to barely evade as the land he was standing on was reduced to rubble by the missiles. “Ha! But it’s slow!” Belial taunted, crossing his arms together and letting red lightning shoot up and down their lengths as he pulled them out to the side with a roar. A wrecking burst on that bloated metal tub was sure to put it down. With a loud yell of exertion, the powerful white and red blast exploded forth from Belial’s hands and heading down towards the massive robot. Megalos’s pincer-like arm lit up with a crackling plasma field and with an earth-shaking boom, the robot leaped into the air straight towards the beam. 

Energy scattered in all directions, the light blinding as Belial’s ray hit Megalos’s plasma blade head-on, the sound of the clash shrieking through the heavens from the intensity of the colliding powers. The head of Belial’s ray continued to power straight forward for a moment..before the beam bulged and then shattered into a thousand shards of glimmering light, breaking away from Megalos’s charging form. Belial had only enough time to give a horrified gasp before Megalos had cut through the whole of his ray like a salmon through water. The robot’s plasma blade shorted out from the strain a few meters before reaching Belial, saving him from death. But it was small comfort.

With a thunderous, sound barrier-breaking crack, Megalos spiked Belial to the Earth with the sheer momentum of his strike so hard that a crater over 100 meters in diameter instantly formed around the fallen Ultra. The robot promptly shot back down, its massive hull looking almost like a meteorite as it crashed back down. The ground quaked once more as Megalos came to rest on the earth once more, letting out its synthesized bellow yet again. Belial lay a few meters away from the robot’s pillar-like legs, liquid light dribbling from his cracked jaw where Megalos had struck him. It was by luck that he’d managed to throw himself clear of the meteoric return of Megalos to the ground. As the sediment settled, the machine looked down at him, metal casing suffering only minor damage and unable to feel pain from what little it had suffered. Judah merely watched with his arms folded confidently, giving a slow, mocking chuckle.

Belial chuckled bitterly as he counted the few, sparking holes he’d made in the robot. So, this thing wasn’t invincible. Every cell in his body seemed to him to cry out in pain as he forced himself to stand up, leaning over from the strain. His color timer began blinking red, as if Belial didn’t already know how dire his situation was. Belial turned his head to his left, and the words in his mind died as he remembered that Ken and Marie weren’t there. Belial clenched his fists tight. There was no time for regrets. Or at least, no time to give them thought. He’d just win alone, he’d gotten out of plenty worse situations than this. None came to mind in this moment, however.

Megalos let out another synthetic cry, converting the planet’s rich soil into more terrible power that made its laser ports glow with an eerie light. Belial roared right back, infusing the sound wave with Ultra light and thrusting forward his hands as if holding up a great burden. Megalos took a step back to brace itself, and then unleashed its stored power. In rapid series, each of the lights on Megalos’s chest laser array shot forth a ray that started fires along the ground from the heat of its mere proximity. BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG! Each impact struck against a translucent wall of energy being held up by Belial, each one driving him back a good 5 meters. Belial’s arms screamed their pain in tandem with Belial but he refused to let them buckle, refused to give in. He took a slow, painful step forward, and his barrier responded, managing to deflect back a few of the laser array’s blasts back at Megalos. The impact seared the robot’s armor, exposing a few meter thick hydraulic cables.

Megalos responded to the threat with ruthless, immediate efficiency, the horns on its head sparking and crackling as its primary, most powerful cannon erupted. A yellow bloom of plasma blasted forward and struck against Belial’s barrier. It held for a moment, but though his spirit was willing, his body had reached its limits. A spider-web of cracks formed across the barrier and Belial crossed his arms in front of him defensively as the blast broke through and struck home. Even the Ultra's natural beam resistance wasn’t enough, his metallic skin burning in red explosions as he was flung like a ragdoll through the air and into the mountainside which Judah had been mining. Through cracked lenses and a fading consciousness, Belial could see and hear Megalos’s cry of victory. He HATED it.

=================================

Mold gave a roar, swinging his ax and forcing Mari to do a backflip out of the way. The spectre threw his ax, aiming to hit her as she recovered, but the Ultra leapt up, planting a foot on the flat of the ax. Launching herself forwards, she formed an energy sphere in her hand and attempted to fire it point blank into Mold's face as she came down. The alien conqueror had to quickly dodge to the side to avoid. His eyes widened as she brought up her other hand with an energy blast ready to uppercut him with it. Out of the corner of her eye she saw his ax flying back around and had to do a spinning dodge to the side.

As she fell, she quickly had to put her hands out to stop herself from landing on a group of fleeing civilians. 

She looked up as Mold raised his ax high, preparing to decapitate her. Quickly getting to a knee, she put her hands to her crest and fired a blue energy beam from the middle of the crest that burned into Mold's chest.

As the spectre staggered back with a bellow of pain, Marie quickly let the running asteroids into her hands and flew a distance back where she let them go.

Mold growled and threw his ax at her head. She quickly rushed forwards, tilting her body to the side to dodge the ax and throwing a rushing knee at Mold's face. The spectre caught her leg on his vambrace and threw her back, Marie quickly flipping with the momentum to land on her feet. Expecting what was coming, she charged right at him as if she didn't notice. At the last minute she flipped forwards, grabbing his shoulders and following through to land behind him. She performed a spinning back kick into the small of his back, staggering him forwards right as his own ax flew back around. The spectre barely managed to catch the blade between his hands at the last moment, saving himself from death by his own blade.

Mold gave an impressed head tilt at the move which had nearly killed him. "Clever girl…" the alien warlord spun around and forced her to dodge a slash. "But you’ll need to do better than that!"

He swung his blade, resulting in a purple energy wave blasting forth. Marie dodged to the side to let it fly past as she put her hands parallel before stretching them out horizontally. Mold braced his ax as he noticed the resulting blade of energy aimed directly at the shaft of his ax. Straining against the blade of energy, the spectre gave a loud yell of exertion and deflected it into the sky, his weapon mostly undamaged. 

Nearby, Ken dodged out of the way of the other sibling's whip. 

"Are you going to keep dodging or actually fight back?" the Gina asked, swinging her whip at his leg. It was fast as a viper and no less deadly, hissing and writhing in unpredictable ways to lash and tear. 

Ken flipped over it to dodge and rolled back to his feet, keeping a defensive stance. He carefully watched the weapon, playing defensive and deflecting or dodging attacks. _"Wait for it…"_

Gina finally threw a powerful, diagonal lash, prompting Ken to quickly raise his sword and let the whip wrap around the guard before grabbing it.

"Now it's a matter of strength…" Ken challenged before pulling the whip tight. Gina growled, pulling back...at which point the Ultra gave a confident nod and pulled back hard enough to send the spectre flying over his head. 

Gina quickly flipped and landed back on her feet before continuing trying to pull her whip free, but Ken kept it entangled. Taking a different tactic, she closed in and quickly threw a rapid fire barrage of punches and kicks, but Ken met them with a series of precise blocks and dodges until he managed to parry one of her punches. The Ultra threw a powerful hook to her midsection hard enough to launch her back, her feet grinding into the ground as she tried to stop herself.

Gina gave an annoyed snarl, grabbing her whip tightly and sending a surge of dark energy through it with a serpentine hiss. Ken saw it coming and untangled the whip, bringing up his arms defensively to block the resulting explosion that forced him back. The Ultra lowered his arms as the smoke cleared, not taking much damage, but still wary.

It didn't escape Ken that Gina hadn't just used that to escape the bind in the first place. Why? Without wasting a moment, Gina charged more energy into her whip and spun it over head before bringing it down in a massive energized vertical swing.

Ken prepared to dodge out of the way, only to notice some still inhabited buildings behind him. Quickly crossing his arms to gather energy, he threw them forwards to form an energy barrier and caught the attack. He grunted as the attack forced itself down on him, making him plant his feet to tank it until the attack ran its course and he was able to throw it off.

The spectre panted, recoiling her whip. "A hard one to kill, aren't you?"

The Ultra's eyes focused on the whip. A long weapon with a lot of reach, but also a lot of surface area to extend her energy over. And took a lot more force to speed up enough to deal damage.

While Ken continued to weave his way through Gina's attacks, Marie charged forwards, bending backwards to dodge another energy slash then springing back up with an energy blast charged in both hands that she slammed directly into his chest. In an explosion of energy against his breastplate, Mold was staggered back and left smoking. Shaking his head to clear it, he retaliated quickly with an overhead swing of his ax. Marie quickly fired an energy beam into the side of the ax to knock it aside, saving herself by a few meters. Not missing the opportunity, Marie formed a super dense energy sphere in her hand and punched it with all of her strength into the wrist joint of Mold's armor. Mold gave a scream of pain as the blast forced its way into his armor and exploded with white hot intensity. His hand was severed along with the ax still in its grip, spiraling off in a shower of green blood.

Ken dodged another powered up whip strike from Gina, timing her attacks' speed until finally he noticed her attacks becoming more sluggish. The whip took constant motion to remain dangerous, and that constant motion was taking its toll on her stamina. Still, she fought on with savage determination. As Gina pulled her weapon back for another overhead swing, she heard her brother scream in pain.

"Mold!" the alien screamed, turning to look, allowing Ken to charge forwards. She turned her attention back to the battle quickly, winding up her whip for another strike just that little bit more slowly than before. Her movements too slowed by her fatigue, Ken easily dodged her strike and stabbed his rapier clear through her knee. 

"Gina!" Mold yelled, turning as his sister screamed. Marie took advantage and shoulder-tackled him, knocking him to the ground before grabbing his legs. She spun around, lifting him off the ground with a grunt of effort before hurling him into the air. At the same time, Ken leapt into the air, spinning several times to build momentum before landing a flying dropkick to the wounded Gina's chest, launching her back and sending her colliding with her thrown brother. Marie and Ken regrouped side by side and gave one another a nod.

"Surrender, you've lost," Ken stated, keeping his defensive stance but trying to look less threatening. "Come with us and you will live." The two siblings gave one another a knowing look, their remaining hands locked together as they slowly got back up. 

"It doesn't matter if we lose here…" Gina said with a chuckle. 

"You're doomed anyway…" Mold finished. The two siblings charged energy into their weapons, parts of their broken armor falling away as they channeled all of their dark power at once.

Ken gave a sigh. "...So be it then…"

The two Ultras shared a nod and jumped back. Ken quickly slammed his fists together and pulled them apart as rainbow colored energy crackled around them while Marie swung her upper body to the side with her arms vertically as energy gathered. Both swung their arms forwards into an L-shape and let loose rainbow colored energy rays that collided and merged into a large beam.

The spectre twins swung their weapons forwards, letting loose a massive stream of purple, fiery energy. The two attacks met, energy building between them as they struggled back and forth…

But Mold was an arm down and his sister exhausted. 

With a roar of effort, the two Ultras pushed their attacks forwards, finally plowing through the invaders' attacks. The spectre siblings screamed in agony as the beams slammed into them, energy cascading off in showers of sparks.

The beams finally ended, the two aliens barely standing as chaotic energy crackled about their form. As the two fell to their knees, both put a hand on their sibling’s shoulder before both finally fell, the chaotic energy and their own bleeding power finally detonating in a massive explosion larger than the Ultras themselves.

Ken and Marie slowly stood back up, panting as their color timers began to blink red with their characteristic siren.

\-------

Belial could barely muster the strength to grunt as the robot’s foot slammed into his side, punting his form against the side of a mountain. Megalos’s electronic howls filled Belial’s senses as he was grabbed by the head, lifted, and ground into the rock. Megalos’s pincer held his head like a vice, and every second it squeezed harder. 

Belial struck back with everything he had, ramming his hand into one of the small holes he had made in the armored shell and gripping at the hydraulics with fingers he could barely feel. So much the better, with the ragged, metallic edges of the hole scraping up his hand to the point of it being covered in liquid light. Belial tugged and fought desperately, unsure if he was screaming out-loud or just in his brain as the robot continued. He wasn’t sure of many things right now, actually. Was it anger or pain that put this red haze over his eye lenses? Was he going to die here to some hitherto unknown chunk of metal? It didn’t matter. He’d fight, and he’d win. Megalos’s vice grip on his head slackened for a moment, preparing to muster all of its mechanical power for a single, crushing blow. But it never came.

Without the support of Megalos’s claw, Belial slumped down on the mountainside, cracked eye lenses perceiving what had just saved him by punching Megalos away from him; Zone Fighter. The senior warrior wasted no time in posturing, instead bolting towards the stunned robot before it could put up a proper defense. Zone Fighter grabbed it and without even a grunt of exertion lifted the over 100,000 tonne machine up onto his shoulders, did a spin and threw it, sending it flying several hundred meters. Despite the thunderous crash and eruption of sediment that resulted from the impact, Megalos forced itself back up. Even such a monstrous impact hadn’t managed to faze the war machine all too much. Zone Fighter hadn't been trying to damage it yet, however.

Zone Fighter bellowed a war cry, his wrists lighting up with fire as a thousand missiles erupted from them all at once. The massive, thundering onslaught of ammunition filled both Megalos’s and Belial’s field of vision with rockets and their flaming trails. It was the biggest meteor missile might this world had and ever will see, all of the powerful explosives striking home against a shrieking Megalos. The chest armor was torn open by their volume and power as the saurian machine was forced back into a deep groove that the assault cut in the earth. Still the robot fought, charging its main laser cannon even as it was being torn apart by the storm of missiles. Zone Fighter had no intentions of allowing the robot to fire, however, and before Megalos had even finished processing all of the missile strikes, he unleashed a bolt of destructive blue protons from his antennae. Belial felt the power of the blast even from where he was standing behind the great hero, shaking the ground as the azure power that made his Wrecking Burst look like a firecracker melded with the orange explosions of the missiles to completely engulf Megalos. The ground sundered in a huge crater around the robot. Or at least, what was left of it.

Megalos still stood, for lack of a better term. Its arms were torn off, its head was little more than the skeletal, melted remains of a laser cannon, and its torso completely run through at many points by the all-out assault Zone Fighter had delivered. Megalos’s mangled circuitry gave one or two insignificant sparks, and then the robot was entirely silent. The power at his master’s command made Belial almost shiver at the sheer magnitude of it.

Belial's vision blurred as he struggled to remain conscious, being greeted with Zone Fighter's glowing optics looking at him with the blazing ruin of Megalos behind him. From the fire, a dark, horned silhouette advanced with a greatsword held low.

“NO!” Judah howled, his horror palpable in the slight quiver his rough voice had taken on. He raised up his sword with a feral scream, preparing to split Zone Fighter in half. “It was my greatest creation! How?!” 

Zone Fighter answered with a swift backhand fist to Judah’s face without even looking at him, drawing green blood from a surely broken nose. Superior as Zone Fighter was to the spectre warlord, Belial realized now the amount of energy Zone Fighter must have had to exert to destroy Megalos. The punch had been far slower than it usually was, and even now the legendary hero’s legs and arms quivered with the exertion of continuing the battle. Even so, Judah stood little chance with the way he reeled from that punch. All three of them knew it. With a low grunt, Zone Fighter turned and charged. This time though, Judah actually avoided it in a blur of gold and black motion.

Belial could barely understand it at first. The movement had been incredibly quick, far quicker than Judah had been when fighting Belial let alone now. However, through his unfocused vision, Belial was able to see two streams of dark energy surging into Judah’s back and no doubt empowering him. Judah gave a ferocious growl, somehow both angry and victorious. 

“You’ve slain my siblings...but even in death, Gina and Mold will not fail me! Their deaths only make me stronger! We are all one, we are Guar! We can never be destroyed!” Belial felt a tiny twinge in his innards at the thought that Gina and Mold had died, which meant that Marie and Ken had won. All the while he had been getting mulched by Megalos. “You may have won this day, but because of their sacrifice, Guar will live on! And you will suffer a thousand times the insult you have paid upon us!” the spectre boomed, his voice taking on an echoing tone due to the fusion of his siblings. If Zone Fighter was intimidated by the fusion of the warlords, he didn’t show it, merely bracing into his missile firing stance as Guar began to flee into space. It would be an easy shot, and the fact that Guar was retreating said to Belial that he still was not confident in fighting his master even with the boost in power from absorbing his dead siblings. 

Click. Zone Fighter’s gauntlets gave a pitiful, disappointing little sound, their ammunition entirely used up by the assault on Megalos. Without missing a beat, Zone Fighter prepared to fire another ray, but it was leaps and bounds lesser in magnitude to the one which had felled Megalos. The blue ray drew forth an agonized shriek from Guar as his cape was entirely burned away, but did not stop his flight. Shooting in from the city, two silvery forms that Belial knew very well charged Guar as well. No doubt Ken and Marie, fresh off their victory. Belial managed to stand upright using the rock face to attempt to see better, but there was not much to see. The pair of them were clearly exhausted as well, and the newly rejuvenated Guar had new tricks too. Gina’s lashing, energized whip shot out from his left hand, forcing Mari to deflect it with an energy barrier while in his right hand Mold’s cursed ax parried Ken’s thrust and then batted him away. Before anymore could be done, Guar escaped into the inky blackness of space from which he had come, leaving the Ultras to their hollow victory.

“Damn it...he’s getting away,” Belial groaned, pushing off of the mountainside. There might be clues to his location if they just looked where he’d left, maybe they could even catch up if they did it quickly enough. Belial managed to hover about a body length off the ground before his color timer’s beeping became an incessant whine and he dropped from the air like a stone. Before he could hit the ground, he felt strong arms catch him. The world swam in and out of focus, but he could see Zone Fighter’s worried face looking down on him alongside Ken and Marie. He was saying something, and Belial only just had enough presence of mind to hear his fading voice before his world went totally black.

“Don’t die on me, Son…” 

\------------

Zone Fighter spoke urgently as he held his charge’s limp form, shaking his head up at Ken and Marie. Ken and Marie returned the solemn nod before returning to the ground. It was only then that the extent of Belial’s injuries became clear to the pair.

The thankful natives all crowded around them at as safe of a distance as they dared gather, as worried for one of their saviors as his friends were.

“By the stars, what happened to him?” Ken gaped, unable to count the lesions that had torn through Belial’s form.

“We have to stabilize him, quickly!” Marie cut in, a slight tremble in her voice that she controlled for the sake of the mission. “Let’s get out of this atmosphere, he needs light!” Zone Fighter and Ken quickly moved to support Belial’s broken form as he and Zone Fighter flew him out of the planet’s rain-thick atmosphere and towards the comforting vacuum of space.

“He needs a lot more than that” Ken muttered while Marie moved over to Belial’s side. Light radiated from her palms and slowed down the loss of light from his many wounds, but it was clear that even her field medic skills were a stopgap at best for wounds that had to be treated on the homeworld. 

“We’ve saved the planet and its populace and stopped a deadly superweapon” Zone Fighter murmured to the pair as they shot through space. “Guar may have gotten away, but I’d rather he get away than we lose a single other soul in this battle. Including your own. We can hunt him down later with the rest of the Ultras, we couldn't get you back.”

The elder hero looked towards them. "You fought and did well, I am very proud of you…" he said, then looked down at Belial with a sigh. _'But if he'd learn patience, it would've been over even sooner…'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're a little confused on who Megalos is, that's Grand King Megalos. We used the name of Megalos instead of Grand King because our Ghidorah is also called Grand King Ghidorah and we wanted to avoid any confusion. Plus it'd just be strange for Judah to name his war machine like that if Ghidorah holds the same title.
> 
> To those wondering about why Mari is a Blue Ultra, the Ultra Race in this AU is a little different from canon. Blue Ultras indicate a mutation that trends towards control of energy while Red Ultras trend towards physical brawn, it's something any Ultra can possess.


	2. Ultraviolet

Megalos’s metallic body screeched in protest as powerful hands gripped at the robot’s head. Judah lay wailing behind the Megalos’s bulk, armor smashed and sword broken by the power of the mighty Ultra destroying his war machine. Megalos gave one last roar of tearing metal before its laser cannon head was crushed entirely, spraying hydraulic fluid and coolant all across the torn up landscape. A swift yank later, and the head was removed and sent sailing across the horizon.

“How did you do it? How did you destroy Megalos so easily?” Judah gasped, staring up at the silhouette of the most brilliant, greatest Ultra to have ever lived. At least until he went blind from its intensity. "AH! MY EYES!"

“How, well, that’s very simple.” A flash of movement later and a fist was planted into the spectre’s gut. Then another, and another, and another. Each punch sounded like thunder, coming in such rapid succession that it became a blur of silver Ultraflesh as the spectre was pummeled. So intense was the sheer impact and number of hits so great that it kept Judah in the air. It would not end until he was punched once for each of his many victims. That felt an appropriate punishment in Belial’s eyes. “Because I’m stronger than anyone!” Belial shouted in triumph. 

“Get him, Belial!” Ken shouted encouragingly, struggling to stand in the wind force of Belial’s power. “His power is off the charts! It must be a hundred times more than me! I can’t even keep up!”

“Fight on for the power of love and hope!” Marie chimed in, clasping her hands together and raising up one leg in defiance of the hurricane winds of the battle. Belial smirked at their praise and grabbed the mauled Judah by the throat before pitching him into the air like he was just a ball. A ball going at supersonic speeds, in any case. 

“Curse you…!!!” Judah howled as he was flung. Belial’s power surged around him, crossing his arms and firing a ray larger than a mountain. The mere power of firing the ray shook the planet, and Judah was less than a speck of dust before it. The beam continued off into space, annihilating the spectre's entire army down to a man along the way, looking like a miniature sun. Before this massive power had even finished flying off, Belial felt a hand on his shoulder. With resplendent glee, Zone Fighter nodded his head at him.

“Good work, Belial. You’ve surpassed all my expectations. I’m proud of you.”

Belial could see all the light in the universe in that moment.

\---------------------------------------------------------------

He could still see all the light in the universe, but he felt much weaker. Worse than weaker, like he had just been swallowed up by a Bemstar and then spat back out. What he thought had been all the light in the universe was also becoming distinctly less impressive, merely a brilliant, healing lamp. Belial’s eye lenses glowed with a dull light as the details of the room he was in swam back into focus. A hospital room, stark white, surrounded him rather than the triumphant battlefield of his dreams.

“Hey, look, he’s awake!”

“Belial, you looked like you were dead!” Belial had to resist a gasp as he was hugged tightly, straining his aching bones. Any thought of struggling was entirely destroyed by the sight of Marie’s relieved face looking at him. 

“Hey, Marie,” Belial croaked sweetly. He was entirely willing to tolerate any aching in his bones for this moment, the warmth he felt suffusing him entirely now. “Lovely to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you up and about too, Belial. And congratulations on finding your true love.” Belial felt like his soul was about to sing for joy as he moved to return the hug. Marie moved away before he could, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. However, the embrace around him did not go away. Belial processed that knowledge for half a second before looking down and recognizing the bull-horned Ultra holding him.

“Oh.” Belial winced, the pain in his innards feeling ever so slightly more real now. “Hey, Ken. Kind of crushing my ribs…” Ken started and quickly moved off, brushing himself off and chuckling shortly. The pain certainly felt a little more real now, but at the same time, the absolute relief felt in that embrace was something of a balm to it. 

“I hope it lived up to that fantasy of yours,” Ken said, offering a hand to Belial. Belial just shook his head, reflexively popping his neck and almost instantly regretting it as a firebolt of pain shot through him. What had happened to make everything hurt like this and put him in a hospital?

“You know, Ken, you’ve been pumping the uranium for so long I really did mistake those pecs of yours fo-” Belial was cut off as his attempt to swing himself out of bed saw him tumbling towards the ground. Two pairs of hands caught him just before he could hit the ground, and Ken and Marie pulled him up to the bed slowly. “Hey, come on, I’m fine. it’s not like I lost the fight with Megalos or anything…”

…

Ken and Marie’s sympathetic looks jogged the memory that his body’s pain carried and Belial very quickly had a crystal clear recollection of Judah’s robot hitting him so hard that something inside of him had broken. Not just one blow either, but many, many blows from the war machine. Belial trembled at the intense memories. Nothing of fear in those shakes, but shame.

“You held out for a really long time” Ken quickly put in.

“I mean if you call almost dying not losing…” Marie said at the same time. 

“...Y-yeah. Yeah, exactly. Not a loss,” Belial grunted, reluctantly letting the healing light continue its work on his battered form. He noticed one of the Windoms the Ultras used for support roles, this one with a nurse's hat, offer a miniature, glowing capsule. He took it and did his best to give it a nonchalant toss before crushing it on his color timer in an explosion of light. "And I put some dents in that clanker."

"And you're already healing from the ones it put in you," Ken replied supportively, giving a wince as he looked him over.

'Most of them anyway…' Belial added mentally.

The Ultra ran it through in his mind. Every fight before. Saving Planet Sturm from that Knackle and his Black King. The Black King would've destroyed an entire city, but he'd taken its head off! Stopping that Bemstar from destroying that city on Esmeralda. That beam eating thing gave him trouble, but he'd managed to blow it to bits in the end! And there was that time he'd saved Ventara from that swarm of Mongas! Sure, Ken and Marie killed a few but he got more kills than either of them! Then there was stopping those Shadow terrorists from summoning their 'Space-Time Destroyer God' Zegan! He'd stopped them before they could even start their exaltations! Then there was that swarm of Bezelbs that tried corrupting Planet Torendiru! He'd taken them down in the atmosphere before they could claim a single life! And then there was that young Zandrias that'd fallen to Edenoi! He'd managed to stop it from hurting anyone! Sure, he'd had to humiliate himself to get it back to its mother, but he'd accepted it with dignity, hadn't he?! And then there was when that Lunatyx tried to eat the magma of Planet Denzi's moon! A Choju! It'd been a hard fought battle, but his Wrecking Burst had saved the day!

He'd never failed! Never lost! He'd managed to hold his own in a sparring match with Zone Fighter! The Zone...Fighter…

His mind wandered back to Megalos. He wasn't able to do anything more than scratch it and had gotten beaten near to death by it. Then Zone Fighter had come in and turned it to scrap metal.

In that moment, Belial came to a terrifying realization, both about his mentor's sheer power and about himself.

All those years, Zone Fighter had been going easy on him.

He'd never even been close.

Megalos had merely shown it in vivid detail. It was bad enough Megalos had been the first monster to hand him a decisive loss, but it'd done more than that. It'd made him realize how weak he really was.

Looking up at his friends, he realized something else. They'd won. They'd destroyed the other two Spectres. Defeat was a new feeling, but now he felt the familiar sting of envy enter his mind. Then shame. Envious of them? It made Belial feel even lower. They were his best friends.

"So...how'd you handle those two spectre scum?" Belial finally asked rather quietly.

Ken jumped slightly. "Oh. Just with some good old fashioned strategy is all."

Marie nodded. "They were big and tough, but they weren't as clever. The important thing is we didn't let them kill another creature on that world, or ever again."

Belial winced and went silent. "Huh. Well, my way would've been faster…" he said, not raising his voice.

The group jumped at a knock on the door. The nurse Windom quietly and helpfully went over and opened the door.

The room went silent as the form of Zone Fighter entered the room, with his Ultra counterpart. The Ultra King himself, the winged old man Noa. Belial could tell they weren't here to pat him on the back. Especially when Noa wasn't talking. Zone being stern was expected, but Noa was the first to ever say job well done. 

He'd been chewed out before, but both of them at once? That was a very unpleasant surprise.

"Ken, Marie, you may leave the room," The firm tone of Zone Fighter left no room for argument as he turned his gaze towards the Ultra warrior in the hospital bed. "We need to talk with Belial."

The tone of his commander & the posture of the King did nothing to assuage Belial's anxiety. Especially as Ken and Mari proceeded to exit the room, the duo glancing back in concern for their friend before the closing door shut them off. Belial tensed, but looked his superiors in the eye.

Zone Fighter cleared his throat, and sat down before speaking clearly and concisely "I will get straight to the point, what you did back on Paira was reckless and nearly cost you your life even if you had good intentions." Belial wished for a moment that Megalos had hit him even harder so he wouldn’t have to hear those words as they cut deeper than any blow.

The King himself proceeded to chime in, "Not to mention you could've endangered your comrades by splitting up without consulting them. Or the universe itself if Judah had escaped with his super weapon." Every word was spoken carefully, with the air if it having been thought out well in advance. No surprise to Belial; the old man had always seen fit to point out flaws within everything he did. It was expected from him. But for Zone Fighter to be so critical?

"You left innocents less defended against the enemy," Zone Fighter then stood up. "It's made clear these actions cannot go undisciplined, and we have a punishment in mind."

Belial almost rose up off the bed to plead his case, but he saw the disappointment in his master’s eye lenses and the weight of it pressed him back down again. He held eye contact for a moment longer with his master; could he not see Belial’s justifications for his actions? The urgency that the situation had demanded? Zone Fighter just shook his head, and Belial bowed his own. 

"If you're going to say you had to stop Judah quickly, keep in mind your teammates managed to destroy the other two without you. If you'd been there, you'd likely have destroyed them quicker and thus been able to team up against this Megalos," Noa pointed out with uncharacteristic sternness. Belial would not have been affected much ordinarily. However, Zone Fighter was actually nodding, agreeing with Noa’s words. Belial’s hands clenched tight as Noa continued to criticize him even more. "And you know how to make an Ultra Sign. You could have sent that information to Zone Fighter if it were truly that urgent. He could have blindsided Judah and his machine and potentially destroyed them both before they had a chance to react." 

"I… I thought I could've handled it by myself, like with the Shadows and their-” Belial stopped himself, realizing his voice was rising and aware that they were judging his reactions to the criticism. Belial lowered his head, steadying himself before attempting to speak in a more disciplined way. A way befitting of a warrior, and not a child. No doubt this was some kind of test. "I swear, on my honor and by the Light, I won't fail next time. I'll be-"

"No," the commanding voice of the King cut him off. Belial winced. "You will be given a task requiring more than just brute force.” Belial bristled at the implication, but held his temper.

To his shock, it was Zone Fighter who gave the punishment. "Effective next week, you will be reassigned to Planetary Guard. And on the side, taking care of my children's needs and some L77 refugees we are currently hosting. We'd appreciate the help." Belial felt as if the floor had been ripped out from underneath him. Years of training and service, and he was to be saddled with such a menial duty? Belial was fond of his master’s children, and they of him, but surely he had better things to do than playing with children? But if it was for Zone Fighter...

"Yes, sirs." Belial replied in a rather subdued tone, though internally, he was grumbling. 'Oh great, I'm benched with babysitting duty.' Though he dare not say it aloud lest they make him fly 8,000 laps around the orbit. Again. “Will I be discharged soon?”

“Soon. I hope you appreciate the weight of this duty.” Noa spoke with finality, and not for the first time did the king turn his back on Belial after leaving him to some punishment. Zone Fighter watched the king leave before chuckling slightly.

“Why the long face? You’re lucky that the king was so lenient” Zone Fighter commented. Belial straightened his posture, brushing his shoulders off. 

“It’s a punishment befitting my mistake.” The words felt like acid in Belial’s throat. How could Zone Fighter stand all the niceties? 

“It was a serious error” Zone Fighter confirmed. “But for now, rest and recover. My children should be here anytime, and you know you’ll need all your energy to handle them.” His eye lenses twinkled and Belial gave a small laugh at the joke. “Reflect and meditate. I think this will help your training immensely.” Belial had no idea how a vacation was supposed to help his training, but Zone Fighter knew more than him. 

“Yes, master...Thank you.”

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The miracle of Ultra healing combined with Belial’s natural resilience insured it wasn’t much longer before he was released and able to walk about, free of all the aches that ran through his bones. Ken and Marie waved to him as he exited the shining, crystalline hospital building and Belial quickly flew over to them.

“You wouldn’t believe how mad the King was!” Belial immediately burst out, laughing as though he hadn’t a care in the world. Ken and Marie seemed to believe it. No, Belial had more faith in his friends than that. They certainly knew it had not gone well, but they humored him, at least.

“You got the old man that mad?” Marie asked, crossing her arms as she flew alongside him. The trio bobbed and weaved between the massive columns of emerald and sapphire, coming to a stop in front of an air traffic lane that teemed with Xilien ships. The smallfry must be in quite a fuss to have shown up in such a mass, Belial thought.

“Oh yeah. So mad he put me to taking care of the Zone kiddos and some refugees from L77” Belial said, shrugging his shoulders and popping his neck habitually. He’d gotten stiff in the hospital. He’d have to double up on his training once he was done with his community service.

“A vacation? Oh, you’re kidding me! If I did that I'd have to scrub the entire palace until it's see through. How is it that even when you’re in trouble, you come out looking like a million credits?” Ken laughed, going for a slap to Belial’s back. Belial dodged it this time, chuckling at the familiarity. 

“Oh come on, he always looks like that” Marie added in as the traffic broke up, allowing the Ultras a path to pass through.

“You’d be two million then” Belial replied to her. 

“Wow, real clever. You know, if you and Ken fused, maybe you’d have better lines” Marie snorted. The image ran through Belial’s head for a brief moment, of Ken’s horns slapped on him or his long fin cutting down Ken’s back. Fusion was a subject he had considered more than once while in the hospital. The Ultra species’s bound-light bodies could meld with other light energies, perhaps even melding their souls if some fusions were to be believed. It was a legendary technique. The power such a fusion could grant would be immense...but the price of it was losing his individuality. What worth was power if it was not his own? Tempting, but that’s all it would ever be.

“Sorry, Marie, that dream’s not going to happen. Gotta come up with better reasons” Ken said, waggling his fingers.

“Definitely not, horns aren't my thing, my head would be bumping door frames,” Belial agreed. 

"And Belial's jawline wouldn't go well with the sideburns I'm planning on growing once I reach 40,000," Ken replied, running a hand across his jaw.

"Yeah, but you'd be so ripped," Marie replied.

"Oh, so you want me to have Ken's 'magnificent' physique, huh?" Belial asked, flexing his biceps...and cringing. "Ow...still a bit sore."

The trio proceeded to share a laugh.

They finally landed at the Zone Family's home on the planet. It was impossible to miss, even if they weren't here so often. Smooth, curved towers rather than the geometrically perfect angles of the rest of the planet's architecture. Solid metal colored in whites and browns as opposed to the blue and green crystal the Ultras used. Zone Fighter and his family were part of the Ultras' world, but their culture was from another planet, so the architecture was not entirely the same. 

“Belial!” a childish voice shouted out, as Zone Fighter Junior sprung out of the dwelling and tackled the shark-finned Ultra. Belial anticipated it coming and let himself be thrown to the ground, flailing about as though it had been effective.

“Oh no, you’ve got me!” Belial cried out dramatically, a hand over his head and another at his color timer as he slumped backwards. After a second or two of that, he popped back up and cracked his neck. “Nice tackle, kid. At this rate, you’ll be tougher than your old man,” The beaming look in the child’s eyes assuaged some of the sting in Belial’s punishment. 

“You look pretty happy for someone being punished, Belial,” Marie chided from overhead. “Hope it doesn’t wear you down too much” With a smart salute from Ken, the pair jetted off, leaving Belial with Junior. The young one was the spitting image of his father, just smaller.

“Junior, Mr. Belial is coming here to help with the L77 kids. You can’t just tackle him” Zone Angel, a pink version of Junior, scolded as she exited the dwelling.

“But papa said to take care of the L77 kids, so when I saw someone outside, I just had to act.”

“Good work with that, but that’ll be my job. I’m here as your bodyguard” Belial said quickly, dramatically pointing at himself with a thumb. He was not going to have his master’s children think less of him. 

“What about what Marie said?” Angel asked. 

Belial brushed it off casually, saying “She’s got a sense of humor, that Marie. So mean sometimes. So then, who wants to hear about my latest battle? I took down Judah’s robot superweapon in it!”

“No way! Papa said Judah’s superweapon was one of the most dangerous he’d ever seen!” Junior exclaimed, wide-eyed and hungry for more of the tale. “How’d you do it, Belial?” Belial chuckled, the pain at the reprimand becoming but dust on the wind as the child’s naked admiration soaked him.

“I’ll tell you once we get inside. I imagine those L77 kids want to hear about it too. But if you want a preview, it all started with heroes coming from the sky…”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“There’s evil coming from the skies to have made something so dangerous” Zone Fighter muttered to Noa as the pair of Ultras stood beside the salvaged wreck of Megalos. Even after the battle, the robot cut an imposing silhouette. The power it had wielded in action had been enormous. For all his ego, Belial was an exceptionally powerful young Ultra and to best him so completely was no small feat. Such a thing merited further investigation. And for that, there was no one better to turn to than the Xiliens. The small humanoids were technologically savvy, and with a barrier provided by Noa, they were able to research and analyze the remains for any evidence as to Megalos’s origins.

“Have you found anything?” Noa asked the Xilien workers, more worry than usual in his ordinarily calm voice.

“What haven’t we found is the better question” the head of the Xiliens said, his voice magnified by the large mech he was piloting to better peel away Megalos’s armor and wiring. Compared to Megalos, it looked like a wind-up toy, but the drill-nosed construction machine was nonetheless an impressive creation for one so small. “It has everything you could think of. Engines running at a beyond ideal capacity, laser cannons that run so hot that they would need a supernaturally amazing cooling system to not liquefy themselves, metals that have been welded together at the individual molecular level, and nanomachine muscle strands. It’s the kind of thing you only theorize about.”

“So Judah is a technical whiz in addition to that power of his?” Zone Fighter grunted, the escape of the spectre still weighing heavily on him.

“Judah? He had to shake down a few of my people just to give his own forces a few crummy ships!” the Xilien said, venomous hatred for the spectre loud and clear in his tone. “There’s no way he could have ever built something like this. Even if he could, the resources used in this thing span over the whole galaxy. Judah’s little corner doesn’t have 90% of it.”

“Someone helped him” Noa said quietly, folding his arms behind his back. “Did you find any black metal in the core?”

“You’re suggesting it’s the Emperor’s work? Why would he ever arm a small time warlord?” Zone Fighter questioned. Noa’s wings flexed at the mention of the greatest threat to peace in known memory. For all the good that the Ultra race had done, there was still a force that made stars go dark and peaceful civilizations tremble roaming the universe. Worlds affected could be saved by swift Ultra intervention, and at first it was thought it was some form of error in the local space-time fabric. However, survivors always told the same story of a dark emperor, a giant clad in an ebon armor with amethyst eyes. Day by day, the plague of darkness spread itself through the galaxy and the frontiers grew ever more violent.

“Master Xilien, would you please confirm for me the presence or lack thereof of this black metal?” Noa repeated, clenching his hands behind his back. A moment passed, then another as the small aliens examined Megalos’s core processing unit. 

“Black metal composes the whole of the core.” Zone Fighter could have sworn the room’s gravity intensified ten times over when those words were spoken. There had always been an assumption that the Emperor relied on specific magic spells that would be easy to defeat if he was denied preparation, given his lack of action against the Ultras. However, if he could create machines powerful enough to rival the chouju of Yapool…

“I fear that Judah is no rival to the Emperor,” Noa theorized, turning back around. “What we are seeing now are merely his table scraps. All the sudden bursts of chouju activity on the frontier, the aggressive pushes by the Garoga, we thought they were unrelated events, but perhaps these are orchestrated by the Emperor himself.”

“He plans to stretch us thin,” Zone Fighter snarled, pounding a fist into his free palm. “We need to redouble our scouting operations into the Emperor’s territory. Cermin’s detachment reported they were getting more and more chouju activity lately, I’m sure they’ve sniffed something out if Yapool is giving them so much to chew on. Once we’ve found them, we can attack en masse to end this twisted empire. No one gets away with hurting my students,” Noa nodded at Zone Fighter’s logic. 

“If someone as dangerous as Yapool is aiding the Emperor, I fear the danger he will pose to our people,” Noa confessed. The extradimensional abomination and his tortured, mutated chouju had long been the cause of the most unnatural deaths in the galaxy. Such things had simply been a fact of life until Noa and Zone Fighter had launched an initiative against Yapool, slowing the rate of chouju invasion drastically. If someone was aiding the extradimensional alien, the suffering that could be caused was catastrophic. “And what’s more…” Noa continued, looking towards the starry skies. “...If this Emperor can recruit someone like Yapool, what other terrible allies can he gain for his cause? I cannot even begin to imagine it. And that scares me, Zone.”

"Me too, Noa" Zone Fighter replied. 'Especially because it's already nearly cost me a student.'

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There was nothing to fear but fear itself.

And fear itself was coming. Blazing through the vacuum of space encased in stone, but not as a prison, as a vehicle. 

Yes, terror was coming, terror to make the mouth dry an instant before death claimed the screaming body and the planet. Without even appearing in full fledged form, terror could kill.

The meteor slammed right through a freighter ship without slowing down, instantly killing all but one aboard as the colossal ship was torn apart by the great force, though none would ever hear of the devastation through the desolate void. Huddled in a tiny escape pod, sucking in what little air was inside of it with a desperation for self-preservation pounding through her veins, the lone survivor tried to huddle down in the interior of the miniscule craft. She frantically prayed to whatever deity was out there to listen for hope, but it was futile for she could not shield her mind from the demon.

'Poor little bug, you can try praying for salvation.'

The survivor wished she died aboard the ship, flailing on the floor and howling in agony as the presence invaded her mind. The sensation felt as though thousands of needles were jamming themselves harshly through her skull, and into her brain itself. All while that god awful cackling rang throughout her head as blood leaked out of her ear canals, and mouth.

'But I won't be listening.'

In an instant, her head exploded in a shower of gore that painted the whole of the space pod's insides red. Without sound to carry through space, it was as if a switch had simply been flicked to delete the head from her body. With a few final twitches, the headless corpse's suffering was mercifully ended.

With his boredom given relief playing with the insignificant vermin. The Hydra could turn his attention back towards his destination. The palace of this so called Emperor. It was a pain to track him down, but razing a planet here & there and coercing some answers from whatever unlucky officials had his attention gave the King of Terror a lead to follow.

Emperor of the Shadows, Ghidorah could only scoff at the title. But if this Emperor proved as powerful as claimed, he could be useful for his plan. Maybe even strong enough to be a candidate for his plan. Though should he be weak, or uncooperative. Ghidorah would hold no issue killing him. The weak were best fit dying to serve the needs of the strong. For now, he'd wait and see the outcome of his… 'Negotiations.'

The Hydra could only smile at the visions of chaos & death swirling through his thoughts.


	3. Accretion

“There I was, back to the wall, with a robot that didn’t yield an inch! Well, I wasn’t yielding either, so the battle was locked at a stalemate.” Belial was committed to his showmanship, reenacting the battle with a great flourish as though he had reached a cliff. The children watched in awe, and Belial soaked it in before finishing the tale. “And then, suddenly, from the sky came your father.” Belial’s finger pointed out Junior and Angel, the former of whom gave quite a proud nod. “With his incredible power being added to the fight, Megalos stood no chance at all. Bang! Reduced to scrap metal in an instant! Judah was so scared, we couldn’t even hear his last words as he escaped with his tail between his legs.” Belial’s story was met with some applause from his audience of children, which had swollen by two since he had started to speak. The refugee pair had finally brightened up, much to Belial’s pleasure.

“I hope he never comes back!” the elder twin of the refugee pair said, a red Ultra with three horns, one facing forward and the other two running flat across the brows. “He sounds like a coward. I’ll kick his butt myself if he does.”

“Don’t be dumb, Leo,” the younger sibling scolded his brother. He had no fin or horns, rather a helmet-like dome covering his silver head. “You’d just get killed by him…” Belial’s mental victory lap was a little soured by the fact that one of his charges wasn’t so impressed with his story. It had been like this for most of the story, with Leo being bright and peppy while his brother Astra merely stroked a domesticated, lizard-like beast or threw in some unenthused comments. Belial strode up to the child with strong purpose and nudged his shoulder. 

“Hey, what’s your pet’s name?” Belial asked. Astra didn’t offer a response.

“Ron,” Leo chirped after a few moments of silence had passed from his brother. Upon having its name called, the eight meter lizard looked up and lapped at Astra’s thumb. Belial gave a quick nod to the elder sibling before looking back upon the younger.

“Your pet is not shy, nor is your brother isolating himself. What's bothering you, kid? There's no need to be scared, we're all here to help you." Belial spoke softly as he laid a hand upon Astra's shoulder. Seeing his one of charges still in a foul mood put a damper in his own spirits, and he wouldn't let them stay sad if there was something he could do to help.

But Astra did not speak up, merely bowing his head further and preparing to get up and leave. Belial maintained his grip on the child’s shoulder, gentle but firm. Realizing he wasn’t going to get away, Astra whipped around and in a low hiss muttered his answer. 

“I’m not like them. I’m not brave. I’m scared and-” Belial cut him off with a swift wave of his hand. 

“Enough of that. You think that just because you’re scared it doesn’t make you brave? Most everyone feels fear…even I have my moments,” Belial said, lowering his voice. Zone Angel picked up the hint and shepherded Leo and Junior away while Belial spoke. Astra looked up at the shark-finned Ultra, real surprise finally showing in those jaded eyes. “I bet Leo and Ron are too. All you have to do is just control fear, and that’s the tricky part. But once you learn it, it’s easy.”

“Easy for them to say, Leo’s the toughest kid in my neighborhood. Well, what used to be it…” Astra started bringing his head back down, but Belial’s finger at his chin interrupted him. 

“And you can be tough too. That’s what’s great about the Land of Light, we all are trained,” Belial replied. "Like my buddy Ken. I was born this tough, but Ken? He had to earn it. He was a stringy little wimp when we were kids, but now? He's one of the toughest guys I know! And have you seen his muscles? He's jacked!"

“I’m not old enough to be a cadet yet though” Astra pointed out, getting an amused snort from Belial.

“Yeah, maybe so. But that doesn’t mean you have to sit there and be ruled by fear in the meantime either. There’s tricks around it. For instance, you could try counting to ten backwards. Tell me, what really scares you?” Astra flinched beneath Belial’s hand and whispered a singular word.

“Him.” Belial nodded, not sure of its target but knowing its meaning.

“Alright, now try it. Count to yourself, and realize that he is not unconquerable. He will fall. And you will win.” Belial counted the numbers within his own head, and when the countdown finished, he nudged the young refugee. “And now?”

“...It’s a little better now,” Astra murmured, a slightly less dour ring in his voice. Belial proudly nodded and patted his back.

“Good work, kid. You’ll be an Ultra warrior one day!” Belial rose to his feet and headed to where Zone Angel had herded the rest, speaking a quiet ‘thank you’ to the eldest child present for her giving a moment of privacy. Seeing them all assembled, Belial’s mind was struck with an idea. Not only would it probably help Astra, but it would give him a chance to show them all some real style and flair for when they became cadets. All the better to teach the new generation quickly! 

“Alright! Who wants to go on a little trip to the training grounds?” Belial offered with knowing glee. 

“No way!” Zone Junior burst out, almost bouncing in excitement. “You can really take us?”

“But they’re off limits to kids” Zone Angel pointed out, ever the stickler. Belial really had to wonder if that girl ever had a moment where she did not want to spoil the moment. 

“You won’t be getting too close, just at the sides. Besides, that only applies to people not accompanied by warriors, and you’re well escorted here” Belial waved her off. Zone Angel put her hands on her hips and did not seem quite ready to give it up yet. 

“But what about-” Whatever her protests might be, they were drowned out by pleased whoops from the other children. Eventually, even she shrugged and conceded with an amused giggle as Zone Junior began making various fighting poses. 

“Onward!” Belial commanded his small flock with a dramatic point worthy of a general leading his forces into battle as he escorted them towards the massive arena which served as the training base for all Ultra warriors. 

\----------------------------------------------

The arena’s massive, robust structure constructed by masterful architects made even Belial feel humble as they approached it. Grand, swooping columns created a five-pointed star to mark the arena’s corners with huge platforms jutting from the column every few hundred meters. At each of the four cardinal directions was a proudly presented symbol: north the Land of Light's own symbol of a comet, west a crystal ring, east a five-pointed start, and south the head of a lion that currently had a black banner hanging from it. All along them were Ultras, like bees nestled in a hive. And just as busy, with Ultras of all colors and shapes firing rays or throwing sparring blows at each other. Windoms, Miclas, and Agiras busied themselves assisting Ultras diligently, throwing up targets or acting as sparing partners.

Belial looked to the crowd and back to his charges, a pleased glint in his eye lenses. 

“So, what do you think?”

“Wow!” Leo trilled, gawking out at the training Ultras. “We never had anything like this on L77!” He saw the lion symbol to the south and gasped. "That's L77's symbol!'"

"Those symbols are for the Land of Light," Zone Angel explained, pointing to the comet, "O-50," she continued as she pointed to the Ring, "U40," she pointed to the five pointed star, "And of course, L77. The homeworld and its major colonies. There are other colonies like Z95 and TOY-1, but those are the biggest where most Ultras come from."

Astra noticed the black banner beneath his planet's symbol. " _Were_ where the most Ultras come from."

“The Land of Light is a bastion against evil. And the only way to stand strong against evil is by beating it into submission!” Belial explained as he noticed Astra's mood, pounding one fist into his other hand. The kids nodded their heads, looking back to the training fields. An awry blast of energy flew over their heads, exploding in the air in a shower of sparkles. “Just like that” Belial affirmed, flaring up the roiling power within his core. Light cascaded around his arms, getting a series of appreciative “oohs” and “aahs”. “The duty of an Ultra is to shine a light on the darkness of the galaxy and bring the hand of justice down to crush them!”

“You know, it’s not just crushing the darkness though.” Belial turned to see Ken’s horned visage rising up from a platform just below them, having apparently sparred with a...school teacher, was it? 

“Did you just start training with Shin? That Bemular?” Belial gawked at Ken. Belial had thought he would never have to see Mr. ‘Bemular’ once he’d graduated past basic education. The slim school teacher floated up behind Ken with his arms folded disapprovingly, scowling at his former student with just as much antipathy.

“And I see you’re still as mature as a Zandrias, Belial. You’re setting a terrible example for the children” Mr. ‘Bemular’ critiqued in his usual, clipped tone that grated on Belial’s hearing so much. Belial scoffed. As if Mr. ‘Bemular’ had the right to treat a combat worthy Ultra like himself like that, when the teacher had never shown any similar martial promise. “By the way, the children aren’t allowed here without an escort from someone on the training grounds, and as I recall you are on pr-”

“Woah, woah, it’s okay, Shin. I invited them” Ken placated with a wave of his hands. "Let the refugees have some fun, you know what happened," he whispered afterwards. Mr. ‘Bemular’ gave him a hard look and then flew off to the rest barracks, muttering something lowly. Belial frowned after him. He had just come here to give the kids a bit of joy, and that scowler almost ruined it. Ken turned back to Belial and nodded his head. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thanks, Ken” Belial said quickly, preparing to take the kids over to see the monster archives. Apparently though, Ken wanted to start lecturing too. 

“Anyway, like I said, there’s rescue work too! We have to guide the citizens too!” Ken said enthusiastically. Belial stifled a groan. Ken was a great guy, but there were times when he just started getting too philosophical. 

“We can guide them by crushing the darkness before them so they no longer feel fear” Belial replied, clenching his fist as if crushing that very darkness. 

“Gotta help them live first though, Belial” Ken added, and Belial could hear it in his voice that the issue wasn’t going to be let go. Belial locked eye lenses with Ken, readied himself to start another hour long debate that Mari would have to mediate. 

“What’s that over there?” Zone Junior called out curiously, getting the pair of warriors to look where the child was pointing. There was a procession of many, many small ships belonging to all manner of alien beings processed through a large archway. They were checked in by a group of four Ultra guards with crystal ring Color Timers and then allowed to proceed to the refugee quarter. 

“More refugees” Zone Angel explained to her brother quietly. She looked to Belial and Ken and made a shy request, “May we go see them? I have to write an essay on them. I’ve been trying to get up close and personal with a Baltan but dad’s too busy to set up an appointment with them.” 

“Sure, why not” Belial quickly agreed, letting the tension drop in his shoulders. He could debate later, he wasn’t going to waste the kids’ time with that. “Want to come with, Ken? Or do you want to keep sparring with Mr. ‘Bemular’?”

“You know, Shin is actually pretty strong. He was a wrestling champ back in his day,” Ken said as he followed the gang towards the refugee processing area. 

“Everyone knows that the competition was weak,” Belial scoffed.

“You only say that because you were off-world when it happened,” Ken added as the group lighted down by the ships. "Man's got a mean choke hold on him, and you should've seen his Ultra Throw. I can testify that it hurts." The four Ultras processing the immigrants gave them all a look but then went back to their job of scanning the ships. It seemed like a small number for such an important duty, Belial thought privately while Zone Angel rushed over to a communications table to speak with the tiny Baltans. 

“We’re on a skeleton crew, we know,” one of the four guards said, a Ultrawoman whose nametag read Linka, obviously noticing Belial’s staring. “There are usually four other guys but they got called off world. Something about the frontiers needing extra men manning them.”

“Why?” Leo asked curiously. The four Ultras shrugged and went back to their scanning. Leo looked to Belial expectantly. Belial rubbed his head affectionately and answered with all confidence.

“Well that’s got a simpler answer. It’s because...uh...it’s because…” Belial drifted off, turning to Ken expectantly. “They’ve been putting people to the frontier?”

“Yeah, there was a big push for it while you were still recovering. Increased pirate and invader activity out there. The Star Cluster Council says they have nothing to do with it, but we're suspicious,” Ken said, nodding his head with a hint of a chuckle. Belial popped his neck. Of course Ken had to keep that to himself until the proper moment. “Cermin got put in charge of it.” 

“Cermin!? He’s so cool!” Zone Junior piped up. “I bet he’s seen all kinds of stuff there. Can we go see him, Belial?”

“You can see him right now, kid.” Belial turned to see one of the most venerable frontier captains of all Ultras floating gracefully behind him. All the while a slobbering, hyperactive draconic kaiju about 95 meters tall leaped about by the captain’s side. 

“Aw, he’s cute! Can I pet him, Mr. Cermin?” Leo asked.

“Captain!” Zone Junior corrected. Cermin laughed, the great red and black symbols of honor on his chest rippling.

“It’s perfectly alright. And yes, Guarde here is trained not to attack Ultras. But if you were an evil alien or monster, watch out! But with kids, he’s just a silly boy.” He clicked a command to the guard kaiju and it set about enthusiastically bouncing around the overjoyed children. Belial and Ken gave a brief bow of their heads in respect to Cermin, aware of his formidable record. Life far from the homeworld was not an easy thing, and Cermin had held the frontiers firm for longer than any other. And yet, his shoulders sagged and his head hung slightly.

“You’re back on world already?” Ken asked tentatively.

“Wish I was, but this was just to pick up some extra supplies. I’ll be heading back out ASAP.” Cermin leaned up against the archway’s side. “Just wanted to get another look at the homeworld. And Guarde missed his walks here too.” The grizzled soldier tilted his head to Belial. “Hey, and what about you two? I heard you guys fought Judah? That’s no small feat. You should be proud of yourselves.” Belial puffed out his chest with exactly that pride.

“You should have seen them running,” Belial related, getting a nod from Cermin.

“Of course. We can catch up and talk about it when I get back.” Cermin kept his gaze low but perked it back up when he noticed a third set of eye lenses fixed on him firmly. “You got something to say, kid?” he asked Astra.

“You’re Cermin. I-i’ve heard about you” Astra squeaked out. Cermin nodded his head in acknowledgement. “There’s a guy, a really big, ugly alien covered in this white bone thing, with one eye, and claws and-!”

“Woah, woah, slow down, kid” Cermine attempted to placate. Belial went over to Astra’s side, but the child’s emotions continued to burst forth like a broken dam.

“You have to go and make that evil alien stop. He took my dad away…” Astra murmured in a small, torn up voice. Cermine remained quiet a moment before clicking a command to bring Guarde back to his side. Leo saw his brother’s agitation and looked quizzically over as well. “It’s nothing, Leo. It’s nothing…” Astra mumbled, feeling everyone’s gazes upon him.

“I’m sorry about that. I really am. But that deformed Deathre has proven more evasive than we expected. And none of the local planets in the Star Cluster Council say they have anything to do with him. They just say he’s an exile.” Cermin held up one hand. “I have my doubts. And I’ll do what I can. But the frontier has rules.” Belial squeezed Astra’s shoulder reassuringly; partially for the child and partially for himself. Being bogged down in the politics of border worlds had delayed them a few extra cycles in tracking Judah. As far as Belial was concerned, respect for such obviously corrupt institutions was a fool’s errand. Cermin’s obedience to them brought up a rankling feeling.

“Good luck on the frontier” Belial offered lowly. 

“Good luck” Ken echoed.

“May the light follow us all. And I WILL do my best to bring down any alien who looks like that” Cermine said, fixing his gaze on Astra one last time before strolling off with his pet. The guard kaiju departed only after giving Leo and Astra one last friendly nuzzle. Belial watched them go and then looked back at his charges. They all were pretty entertained, save for Astra, who kept on staring at the ground. It would be a challenge to bring his dour mood up. But Belial loved a challenge.

"Alright, kids, I think it's time I show off a few things," Belial said, clapping his hands together. He led them over to a shooting gallery. "This is where Ultras practice their energy beams. The Agiras over there will send the targets up and you shoot them down. Simple as that."

"Ultras don't have the same problem on their homeworld, but off-world their energy runs dry very quickly," Zone Angel explained. "So they have to learn to make every beam count."

"Always the smart one, huh?" Belial asked with a bit of pride for one of his proteges. "She's right, even an Ultra as good as me and Ken here can't last more than a few minutes on most worlds without the right atmosphere and sun. Ken can last a little longer thanks to those big old horns of his."

"They're fashionable, and functional," Ken remarked with a slight chuckle.

"So you need to learn how to make sure you beam puts the other guy down," Belial said, looking to the Agira. "Pull!"

The dinosaur-like kaiju nodded and ran behind the target launcher, hitting its tail on each activator. Huge jewels lit up and flew into the air. 

The moment they cleared the top, Belial did a quickly charged, much weaker Wrecking Burst and swung it across, blowing the crystals to bits. The crystal shards settled at the bottom, then liquified themselves and merged back into the whole for another set. After several shots, Belial turned and bowed as the children applauded, soaking in the praise. Ken shook his head once or twice before giving a polite clap.

His eyes fell on Astra, however, still noticing his upset. "Astra! Come here, little guy."

Astra jumped and crept over, looking up at him. "Yes, Belial?"

"I'll show you something Zone Fighter showed me when I was your age that really boosted my confidence. Not that I needed it," the Ultra replied with a chuckle. "The most basic of all Ultra Beams is the Specium Ray. It's easy."

Turning back and letting the Agira hit the targets once more, the targets shot into the air. Crossing his hands in the normal + shape, he shot a quick, rainbow colored beam several times in rapid succession. 

"It's easy, all you need to do is focus your light and energy into your hand and let loose," Belial said, then moved and put a hand on his shoulder. "You try."

Astra jumped. "M-Me?"

"Yeah, trust me. Even Ultras who have never spent a day in the military can do it," Belial stated. 

"Shin actually uses it, and he's a professor," Ken replied. "Of course he's practiced it enough to turn it into an art form, but Belial's right that even civilians can use it."

"Go on, Astra! You can do it!" Leo called, the other kids cheering.

Astra gulped, but nodded. "A-Alright. I'll try…" He stepped up and once Belial gave the order, he crossed his arms like Belial...but nothing happened.

"Try again, but this time focus," the older Ultra said, putting a finger on Astra's color timer. "Your energy core is in here. Just imagine that energy flowing down your arms and into your hands. Then envision that crystal going boom."

A second time saw the same result.

Belial tapped his chin. "Alright, here's one more tip. When you see that crystal popping up, imagine it's something you hate. Something you want to see blow up real nice."

Astra nodded slowly, watching the crystal pop up. For a brief moment, he saw a familiar, featureless visor of a face appear and a stream of rainbow light flew from his upright hand. It hit the crystal, causing it to go black rather than shatter, but give off a 'hit' sound regardless. "I...I did it…"

Belial patted Astra on the back. "You're right, you did. Good job, little guy. I'm sure one day, you'll be strong enough to make that really sting the guy who wronged you and people like him."

Astra's eyes managed to brighten a little at Belial's statement, his shoulders being straightened a bit at the pep talk. Perhaps his stay at the land of light wasn't going to be so bad.

\---------------------------------------------------------

“Above all else, peace is what we should strive for,” Ken spoke with pride and surety as he led the group towards the towering pinnacle of the Land of Light. Massive enough to dwarf even the giants of light below it, the tower seemed to be the combination of all the planet’s hopes. And in a sense, one could say it was, having saved all of its inhabitants from certain death.

And it bored Belial to death.

“I think it’s high time you kids get to see the Plasma Spark. You’re all old enough for it, and I know your old man’s been held up by work lately, but you should all still get to see it now,” Ken continued his speech, all the while Belial with crossed arms flew behind the small pack of children they were escorting. 

“It’s not like you can’t get anything out of looking at it that you wouldn’t get from looking at a recording of it,” Belial said, glaring daggers at Ken’s back. The Plasma Spark had immense power, more than even a star did, but all you were able to do was just look at it. Belial hardly saw the point. One might as well just keep a sword hanging on the wall and never use it. Yet, Ken kept going, entirely undeterred by Belial’s naysaying. 

“That’s not true at all! Up close you can feel the light from it, what we have to preserve and spread across the universe,” Ken insisted as they lighted down on the single, tiny entrance to the multi-layered armored dome that covered the tower’s top. It was so small that Ken had to almost bend over double and Belial had to lean forward until he was level with the kids in order to make his way through the small entrance. Belial could admit at least that the entirely practical, super-defensive nature of the place was a little interesting. He tried to recall the defenses in his head as Ken kept going on about the cultural value and history of the Plasma Spark. He knew they'd been passing openings the tower guard could fire in from along the path and numerous light gates that were lowered and reactivated as they passed.

“Hey, that’s the Super Beam Reflector” Belial interjected, pointing out a large, polished mirror wall at the end of the entrance corridor. 

“What’s it do?” Leo asked, reaching out to touch its unbelievably clean surface.

“Oh, it just takes the rays of the guards inside and then fires them out of the tower with a lot more force than they would have by themselves” Belial said, quickly extending his arm to snag Leo’s hand and pull him away before he could fiddle with the defensive structure. "If they knew we were bad guys, we'd be blown to space dust before we can even reach the door."

“I didn’t know you could combine beams” Leo mused, not perturbed by being unable to touch the mirror. A knock on the armor-plated wall got Belial and Leo’s attention, caused by Ken looking expectantly at the pair with the rest of the kids.

“Come on then, there’s way more interesting things here than weapons no one ever wants to use” Ken said. Belial popped his neck and followed along, idly dragging his finger on the armor-plating. The weapons were far and beyond the most interesting part. If only they were not merely kept to the tower, the Ultras could have won many more battles. Belial himself might have been able to defeat Megalos if he’d had something like the Super Beam Reflector available…

“How was the original Plasma Spark made?” Astra asked Ken, swiveling his head around and marveling as they took a larger gateway into a room that finally allowed the older Ultras to stand upright. All around the room’s walls were lances, swords, cudgels, and things Belial didn’t even know how to name. 

“Hey, look at these. I bet you could cut through even choju hide with one of these bad boys” Belial approved, his own staff suddenly feeling positively modest by comparison. 

“Oh, uh, that’s nice, Belial” Astra offered, not looking away from Ken. Belial popped his neck again, feeling very stiff very suddenly. 

“They say that it had a little bit of the soul of everyone inside of it when all of the top scientists got together. Something close to a miracle was melded with science that day. And its power is amazing. But, it doesn’t hurt the good. It just makes the good stronger.” And regrettably, it was locked up in a tower useless for the actual fight.

Finally, the group came to the tower’s antechamber, bearing the formidable, miniature star in a containment field at its very center. The children went “ooh” and “aah”, Ken gestured to it proudly, and Belial almost yawned. Still, the power of it was electric in the air and Belial felt lighter than a feather in its presence. It was never going to be anything more than just a tingly feeling in your fingers though. But maybe…

Belial floated towards the Spark, reaching out his hand for it.

“And now, it’ll make me the STRONGEST IN THE UNI-!” Something grabbed Belial by the foot and hurled him back so fast that the world around him was a blur. However, cat-like in his reflexes, Belial twisted in mid-air and landed on all fours, sliding backwards across the floor with a squeal of polished metal. Before him was a formidable looking Ultra with horns that stuck out straight to the sides the length of her shoulders. And considering her shoulders were wider than two Belials standing next to each other, they were very long indeed. Her star shaped color timer was level with his face

“What in the Light were you thinking?!” the guard growled gruffly, leveling a glaive at Belial. Belial heard a few snickers from the children and out of the periphery of his eye, he could see Ken making a “you’re on your own gesture”. Embarrassment flushed through Belial faster than the guard had hurled him. 

“Just a little joke, it’s not like I was actually going to touch it,” Belial said, rising upright and dusting off his shoulders. He did not dare to let it show how humiliating it felt to be tossed by the leg. He had had quite enough of that lately. 

“It’s not funny,” the longhorn growled at Belial. Another guard, a deep azure in color, descended from above with arms crossed and an energy attack fizzling out on his forehead gem.

“You should thank Nairi. Touching it could have killed you,” the blue guard huffed. That was the last thing Belial wanted to do, but he was keenly aware of the children’s eyes boring holes into his back. As if he wasn’t already aware of it!

“Thank you, Nairi,” he grumbled as pleasantly as he could manage to his attacker. The longhorn grunted and flew upwards once more, joining dozens of Ultra guards hovering through the chamber with as much devotion as a pack of gargoyles. 

“And furthermore, I’d say you should look into what prompted you to try such a stunt in the first place,” the blue continued to lecture.

“It was just a j-”

“But even jokes have their origins in something. Is something the matter?” Belial suddenly found himself wishing Nairi had stayed, he’d prefer apologies to her a million times over being psychoanalyzed by a complete stranger. And in public too! “If you’re feeling insecure about it, we can take a moment aside.” Belial felt his soul slowly dying as one or two of the children snickered at the infinitely kind tones of the blue guard’s voice. 

“I am fine,” Belial said very slowly, forcing out each word in the most controlled fashion possible. Please let it go.

“Are you sure? There’s nothing wrong with asking for help if you need it. In fact, the Plasma Spark chamber is open to listen to everyone’s concerns whenever they may be needed...” Belial seized his moment, feigning ignorance and tapping his chin.

“Really? What’s the history behind that?” he asked. As the priestly guard began to launch into a long, detailed story about the cause and effect of faith and healing, Belial slowly inched backwards. Coming here had been a terrible mistake. All he could do was lose more here. More pride, more dignity, more honor…

“That went well” Ken murmured to Belial as Belial managed to get within earshot. Belial almost screamed. No, it didn’t! But now would not be the time.

“They just caught me off-guard, that’s all,” Belial whispered. 

“Oh, leaving so soon?” the blue guard said, seemingly finally noticing Belial’s slow retreat. Belial felt more fear from that sentence than he ever had in facing Megalos. Why didn’t the guard just mind his own business? Or better yet, stop the fake-nice act?

“You know, uh, actually, if you want to talk, Leo and Astra here could maybe use the crash course. They’re new here,” Belial said, indicating the refugee pair. 

“But this place isn’t that great,” Astra said, looking up at Belial in confusion. 

“It’s all what you make of it,” the blue guard corrected. “It’s like life itself. You can focus on the good parts, or the bad parts. And furthermore…”

“How’s that work?” Leo asked.

“Well I’m glad you asked. It’s all got to do with the illusion of control…” As the L77 pair listened in rapt attention to the blue guard, Belial, Ken, and the Zone Kids slowly made their way out of the Plasma Spark Chamber. 

“Finally, I thought he’d never stop,” Belial finally breathed when they were out of earshot. Ken laughed in relief along with Belial, but rubbed his chin with his fingers.

“I don’t know, he had SOME good points,” Ken shrugged. Belial shook his head at that. 

“Yeah, sure,” he chuckled, elbowing Ken a bit. "Wonder what a guy like that's doing guarding the Plasma Spark, doesn't seem like a fighter."

"There's more than fighting when it comes to the Plasma Spark. And I sparred with Cleric once, he could probably give you a run for your money," Ken said, completely seriously.

Belial chuckled. "Yeah yeah, I'm sure," he replied before looking to the Zone Kids. “Anyway, once the old windbag lets Leo and Astra go, I think it ought to be time for you to head home. How was today, kids?”

“Really fun, Belial!” Zone Junior chirruped. “Up top!” 

“Down low!” Belial met the child’s high fives. He looked up to Ken and nodded his head gratefully. “Thanks for covering for me, by the way.”

“Of course, Belial. What are friends for?”


	4. Antibaryon

The meteor had observed the deaths of many things. However, this death was new even to it. A star, a massive, broiling cauldron of plasma that seemed invincible, dying before his very eyes. The death of a star in and of itself was not unusual. But the method was. Cancerous tumors dotted the star’s surface, stifling out its light and smothering it minute by minute. All of the planets within the system were already covered in the fetid, ebon cloud of malefic energy, and if the star had thought itself invincible to such, it was being proven quite wrong. A few last, choking efforts from the star’s massive reactor attempted to stave off its doom as solar flares crackled over the pieces of its surface yet uncovered.

They only made the darkness hungrier. The last, massive breaths of the star were breathed out to an audience of just one before the constricting serpent of darkness surrounding it finished its lethal coil. There would never be light in this solar system’s skies ever again. It was a terrible feat, a dark sorcery that was beyond anything seen in eons. 

It made the meteor hunger, hurtling ever faster towards a planet in the choked, black orb’s orbit. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Such a pitiful little species. They could have made this so much easier on themselves,” a telepathic voice told the darkness. The darkness offered no reply but to press against the speaker. Bioluminescent shades of yellow and blue raced up and down the speaker, and fended off the darkness. For the moment. 

His skin was black and scaly, though the blackness of his hide was almost white compared to the oppressive dark that lingered just beyond his bioluminescent facial features. Cyan eyes emitted a constant glow in his forehead, and below his arthropod-like mandibles a yellow dewlap flashed intermittently. Ordinarily a tool to communicate among his species, it now only served the Mefilasian as a light source to check the ruins of the newly dark planet’s central palace.

A bit of rubble from the crumbling roof of the palace almost fell upon the Mefilasian’s gold-lined robes. Before it could, his eyes narrowed and he contemptuously slashed it from the air with a sword so beautiful, it practically seemed insulting to let the rubble touch it. The sliced apart rubble clattered down amongst the plundered treasure, the sound of so much clattering gold and silver barely drawing a glance from him.

Such trivialities to die over. These people were far beneath his pride.

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Faust, get up!” a plaintive voice wailed. Faust had reared the voice's owner since childhood, been at her side every minute of her life. He had never failed her requests, had always been steadfast and loyal in defense of her throne. She was his light and life. “Faust, he’s coming!”

Faust bolted back to his feet, plates of broken armor falling from his chest as he shot forward with his sword held high in the air. So long as that light lived, he knew who he served perfectly well. It was set forth divinely from the very beginning that the queen of Mefilas should have a bodyguard. It was simple; he protected her. What other duty could have any dignity, any pride to it? What other life could have any meaning at all?

“How are you still standing!?” someone cried out as Faust's sword bit deep into their shoulder. Faust would have wished to recognize his foe, but the blood from his wounds had seeped into his eyes and robbed him of most of his sight. He did notice the creature's 'hood' expand into a massive maw in an attempt to swallow him whole as he'd seen the beast do to many of his comrades.

“My queen needs me to stand” was his simple, telepathic answer as he tore the blade free of the beast’s shoulder and thrust it through the crimson cobra-like monster’s head before it could react. The blade erupted out the back of the head of the general who had so brazenly led an attack on his queen’s sanctuary. He felt the tips of the vile creature's massive maw poking into his arms, convulsing before the entire body fell limp. Pulling his sword free, Faust pushed the Heavenly King's corpse back and let it crash to the ground with a loud thud. Soldiers scattered in all directions, fearing the strength of the queen’s guard. No, Faust realized as a crushing pressure suddenly filled the room. He wiped his gauntlet over his eyes, clearing them of blood just long enough to see a living blackness at the end of the royal hall with an extended hand.

“You took my rook. But I take your queen,” Faust teleported instinctively, every cell in him screaming with the urge to protect his queen. But the oncoming wall of red was faster than teleportation. The queen screamed louder than anything he had ever heard, the sound more painful than any wound he had received defending her. The instant stretched out for a lifetime, as Faust’s destiny was obliterated before his very eyes, reduced to atoms in a single scarlet explosion. Somewhere, sometime in slipspace he had started screaming too.

“My queen…!” His telepathic anguish did not move the towering, caped emperor who had despoiled everything he held dear. Faust looked up, and saw only absolute authority reflected in that amethyst glare. His hand clenched his sword, preparing for one last, vengeful strike before death. But the overwhelming power in those eyes gave him pause. Faust expected a murderous coward, an insane scoundrel. However, these eyes were those of an emperor. Not a madman. “Why?” Faust breathed.

“It was nothing personal,” the emperor rumbled. “I was stronger than your queen, stronger than your people. Just as you were stronger than him," He gestured to where Faust's opponent's corpse had fallen. Not as a king regarded a loyal knight, but indeed as a chess player would regard a fallen piece. An important piece, but not a vital one. He then raised a hand high, scarlet power gathering in his palm and preparing to end Faust’s life. Faust kneeled, and the emperor paused. 

“Then I serve you now, emperor.” The words melted Faust’s synapses with agony. However, he knew the traditions. Whoever killed the queen was the rightful ruler. And that was that. That tradition, that divine providence, would be honored by the queen's guard.

“Why should I believe you?” the emperor asked coldly. Faust gazed up, offering the sword his queen had given him as a child. 

“It is my destiny to serve the throne of this world. That now belongs to you. Nothing matters more” Faust explained, the pain in his voice not vanishing in the least bit as he spoke. “I protect those who do great things. Whether good or ev-....” The emperor placed one hand on Faust’s shoulder, and Faust's voice died.

“Or evil” the emperor finished for him. “But I am merely a teacher. I am the great one who teaches all to break the delusions shackling our minds. The delusion that there is any such thing as a being of light, as a being of good. The universe is nothing but their shadows.”

With barely a motion, a shockwave ripped through Faust's armor, atomizing it in an instant as liquid darkness took its place and solidified. The royal sword offered by Faust was snatched by the emperor, and gave out a shriek of protesting metal as it was shattered in two. The pieces had not even hit the ground before the emperor made his proclamation.

"Rise, Faust, the Heavenly King Who Upholds the Realm."

And Faust’s pride was satisfied.  
\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Such is the way of these fragile little beings, determined to the bitter end. It would be almost admirable, if it wasn't so illogical,” another voice, clinical in tone though tinged with disdain, echoed back. Its owner stood amongst the darkness with a single piercing shimmer of a golden yellow light emanating from its long neck, illuminating a skeletal frame below it. His right arm was grotesquely oversized, great bony claws nearly as big as the arm itself raking through the rubble and ripping out pieces of golden statues and idols to keep for himself. 

"Illogical to sacrifice themselves over material trivialities, content to let their own people burn amongst the flames. Pathetic," Faust scoffed in derision of the conquered civilization. Its people, culture, and history forever lost to the annals of time. Such an end was fitting for them, he supposed.

“It all went exactly according to plan. Come now, Faust, weren’t you saying it wouldn’t work? That they wouldn’t prioritize their treasures over their people?” the Deathre prodded, cyclopic eye staring at Faust’s back as the shorter King proceeded through the ruins. Faust finally turned his head to look at his comrade, flashing his dewlap enigmatically before turning his back on the Deathre once more. The Deathre’s eye twitched and he quickly barked an order to take more plunder to a large robot done up in his own colors following him. The broad bodied robot’s gatling gun head twirled a few times, analyzing the treasure hoard.

“There are limitations to what this unit can carry” the robot commented emotionlessly.

“And I told you to carry more” the Deathre snapped at it. “And my plans always work, you useless AI” the King huffed. The robot bent over dutifully, extending its hands to grab more treasure. Though the unit was strong, it didn’t have an infinite number of arms, and it had difficulty balancing out the treasure volumetrically. “Oh, and tell me again who gives the best plans?”

“Only you, your Majesty” the robot replied. The Deathre king laughed with glee and followed Faust down the hallway.

The robot’s struggles with carrying the cargo were of no concern to him; his lust for more would never be slaked by only a piece of the treasure hoard.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The Emperor’s chambers had their silence violated by a tall figure hurling something towards the Emperor’s feet. It splattered and squished as it rolled towards the Emperor’s feet, coming to a sluggish, bloody stop a few meters from touching him. The Emperor looked at the severed head of one of his generals for a moment and then towards the one who had pitched the head. “Well then, you have my attention. So, why did you kill my King?” The imperious voice of the Emperor rang throughout the chamber. 

“Because I have something most of your subordinates lack.” replied Genoa, chuckling to himself confidently. Genoa flicked his overgrown right arm, sending a splatter of the former king’s blood spraying across the floor.

The Emperor's guard, the ravenous flesh-eating Bogars who would consume kaiju like a frog ate flies, cringed on their perch above the throne. Not at Genoa or the gory sight, but at the potential wrath of the one they 'guarded' like gargoyles.

“Oh, and what might that be, Deathre?” the Emperor responded in kind, cocking his head to the side and drumming his fingers on the arm of his throne. Genoa analyzed the movement of the Emperor’s head and proceeded accordingly. The Emperor was choosing to take his bait, as predicted. However, he had to keep nibbling.

“Vision,” Genoa responded coolly. “Most of your subordinates are small minded, they lack imagination and ambition.” Genoa sweeped his hand upwards to add a more theatrical flair to his words. The Emperor nodded his head slowly, narrowing his eyes.

“Bold words to speak, but I need a little more proof of your uniqueness than that” the Emperor responded lazily, staring at the head with near disinterest. The Deathre stiffened, eye flashing with intensity at the unspoken accusation. However, he controlled his temper. He would not rise to the Emperor’s bait while Genoa himself was baiting him. Genoa continued on with his practiced speech, modifying it slightly to prop himself up even further. 

“Oh, of course your men can follow orders like good soldiers. But unlike your subordinates, I have the capacity to think outside the box. They cry to their emperor when they can't solve a problem. Meanwhile I, with my supreme intellect, think of three solutions before even thinking of your name.” Genoa retorted confidently. Genoa looked at the decapitated head of the former king and felt a sudden urge to justify himself further. The Emperor HAD to know how much of an achievement that was. "Take for example your former King here. I outsmarted him well enough."

“So what is your game here, Deathre? For all I know, this idiot may have lost his head some other way and you merely present it. I need more than a head to impress me" Empera stated plainly, making the unspoken accusation spoken. Genoa’s eye glowed with fiery light, but he paused as he noticed a slight twitch of the Emperor’s hand. A disappointed one? Genoa pulled back his fire, avoiding the trap the Emperor had set for him deftly. He did not need to use strength yet; the sharpness of his knowledge would suffice. Years of analysis were going to culminate in this moment!

“My name is Genoa” the Deathre snapped back, pausing for dramatic effect as he revealed the true breadth of his brilliant mind. “And yours is Empera, isn’t it?” The Emperor’s eyes widened before shrinking back down to narrow slits, but that fraction of a second of shock all but screamed to Genoa the truth of his analysis. “Is that discovery impressive enough, Empera?”

“You presume far too much, Deathre” the Emperor coldly responded, whatever shock he had felt over the mention of his dead name vanishing. He stood from his throne, his cape swirling down to his legs. Without paying it mind or heed, one of his feet reduced the severed head of his former King to a blood splatter on the floor. Empera’s hand rose up, spreading armored fingers. "If you want my attention, survive." Instantaneously, the floor where Genoa stood shattered into pulverized stone and metal. The blast had such power that the Bogar who had been rushing to attack Genoa upon sensing their Emperor’s displeasure were obliterated just the same as their target. As the dust cleared, while the rubble was covered in the blood of the Bogar, Genoa’s own blood was nowhere to be found on it. 

Genoa himself stared back at the Emperor triumphantly, having precisely leaped back just enough that the Bogars’ bodies would serve him as a shield. Every motion up to the attack had been precisely analyzed and by the time it had actually taken place, it was as if Genoa had had several seconds of advance warning. Genoa glowed with pride. So, the Emperor yielded to emotions just like any other fool who Genoa had talked into doing exactly what he wanted.

“You always start your fights with a right hand blast” Genoa stated smugly, his own right hand glowing with an intense red light. Genoa quickly struck back by opening several portals around Empera. The portal generator had once belonged to a peaceful trader people, but after a few modifications from Genoa, it led somewhere a little bit more inhospitable than a marketplace. Solar flames exploded from the portal, engulfing the Emperor’s black form and melting the black throne to sludge in seconds. Of course the inferno did not harm Empera, the protection of his cape shrugged off the attack like rain on a coat. But it caught him off guard, and that’s all Genoa had expected. The anger of being struck would prompt the Emperor to slash his hand through the air with yet another telekinetic blow, blowing the flames away and trying to rip his foe to shreds with a great, psychic claw. And Empera did not disappoint, doing exactly what Genoa thought he would. So predictable!

“And when that doesn’t work, you resort to clawing like a beast” Genoa sneered, ducking the blow and springing towards Empera and trying to kick him across the face. The emperor’s free hand shot up, a psychic barrier easily deflecting the kick. Once more, exactly according to plan. The swiftness of the movement meant only one conclusion to Genoa. A slow movement was a confident one, but a fast one? Fear, Genoa reasoned.

“You’re scared of fighting up close, aren’t you?” Genoa recovered in mid-air, his right hand charging up fiery energy and thrusting the fireball right against Empera’s face. The explosion of plasma completely covered Empera, the heat of the blast even singing Genoa. The recoil sent him backwards, and Genoa’s hands gouged holes in the rubble as he skidded to a stop. He looked up, cyclopian eye expecting to see Empera’s burned body on the verge of collapse. Those flames were created by a portal directly to a sun’s surface, nothing could possibly survive that, especially after being caught off-guard by Genoa’s ever analytic intellect. He began to laugh in triumph as he stood upright. 

“Ehehehehe...hahaha! All hail Genoa, new Universal Emperor!” he boasted to the silence. His manic energy peaked, having hurdled past all status he had imagined possible. Finally he was where he deserved to be, on top! Genoa’s laughter was cut off by a constricting force squeezing his long neck and depriving him of air.

Genoa’s yellow eye turned bloodshot, widening with horror as the black figure of the emperor emerged from the smoldering fire with only a few scratches to his armor to show for the battle. Genoa flailed his arms towards his neck, but nothing touched it. The emperor’s psychic power alone was responsible, visible only in small gestures from Empera’s hand as he approached Genoa. Finally, the emperor’s hand caught up to his psychic choke, grasping Genoa’s neck with no less force and holding the taller alien off of the ground. Genoa’s overgrown right arm swatted at Empera’s, but failed to move the dark royal’s grip. It was like light trying to escape a black hole. Though the words could not escape Genoa verbally, the sound within his mind was very consistent; No, no, no, I was winning!

Genoa, in panic, tried to drive his claw into Empera's eyes, only for the Emperor to casually catch it with his off hand. As if he were an adult and the powerful Deathre was a small child, Empera slowly twisted his arm until it was at his side. 

“Well, that was quite the display, Genoa. I actually felt that. Only a King is worthy of that,” Empera said calmly. Genoa stopped his struggles, staring at Empera with a mix between hope and horror. The status of a King had been exactly what he’d come here for...but compared to being an emperor it felt so agonizingly small. Empera let out a rumbling chuckle, and this time, it was he who read Genoa and not the other way around. As if seeing that earlier hope and desiring to crush it, Empera casually twisted his wrist and Genoa's forearm shattered and his middle nail was snapped clean off. He only didn't scream in agony because he physically couldn't, and also because Empera held his own severed claw to his neck. “Even that can’t satisfy your lust for power, can it? But I will tell you this; even being the emperor would not fill the hole inside of your soul. I would know.” With that, Empera dropped the talon. Dumbstruck both by words and power, Genoa was limply brought back down to the floor. “And THIS is the difference between an emperor and a king.” 

Empera shoved Genoa lightly...through about five metal floors. There was no telekinesis. No shockwaves. Only sheer brute strength. The impact with each floor further broke something inside of Genoa, but whether it be body or spirit, none of them hit quite as deeply as the Emperor’s last words. He finally came to a stop, smashing through the dinner table of a horde of underlings that were now answered to him who could only stare in awe and terror. Genoa’s fading consciousness starred up through the holes he had left during the floor, his position in the army infinitely higher than at the beginning of this day. And yet...

“Your new King lives to serve you” Genoa rasped in humiliation, unsure if Empera could hear. He looked to the people surrounding him and barked out an order with the authority he now held. “What are you looking at? I am your new King! Take me to the medbay, you peasants!” Genoa hissed. The underlings blinked at him and then at Empera and grabbed Genoa obediently. Genoa had to suppress a groan of pain, refusing to stop looking up at the throne room. Far above him, Empera looked down at him with a cold gaze. 

“And you always will serve me, King Genoa, One Who Sees All” Empera declared with a sneer, as though speaking to an insect.

And thus did Genoa’s lust for power burn ever brighter.  
\---------------------------------------------  
The finely polished stone carvings on the palace’s pillars were replaced with all the more elegant swirls and fractals of frost. The crystalline beauty seemed to almost restore the broken palace, putting out fires and replacing gaping holes in walls left by the invasion. Genoa and Faust’s breath turned to mist and then to small swirls of snowflakes as the palace’s temperature dropped.

“Hell’s teeth, I will never get used to that,” Genoa complained, opening up a hellishly hot portal just behind himself to stave off any ice creeping up his own limbs

“You will,” Faust offered quietly, bearing his shivers with stoic dignity. He levitated slightly off the ground, dusted off his robe of the frost, and turned to the ice’s source. A blue light cut through the black haze, of a lighter shade than Faust’s eyes but no less intense. The light formed a visor across a silver, icy face with a small, lizard-like maw huffing out even more icy clouds. The rest of his form was obscured by an azure cloak that periodically froze and unfroze, like a living blanket of water. “Did you have a happy hunt?” Faust asked his ally. The lizard-like maw exhaled slowly with disappointment, freezing yet another pillar solid without even noticing. 

“They...always...end...the...same…” A huge blade of ice shot out from the arm of the cloak, bearing the disembodied, flash frozen head and spine of this planet’s greatest warrior on its tip. “Why...do...you...ask? You...know...the...answer.”

“The outcome might have changed this time. The winds of Fate are unpredictable” Faust answered without much conviction, though some sympathy tinged his words. 

“Everything about you is predictable, you walking ice cube” Genoa muttered under his breath, directing his portal’s heat towards keeping his robot from icing over just from the third king’s presence. 

"You assume you've ever seen him actually fight," Faust snarked. The frigid Groza let out something in between a laugh and a groan, retracting his blade and clutching the trophy in his icy claws. 

“That’ll...be...the...day.” The Groza stared at the warrior’s frozen grimace within the ice, ever defiant to the end. What thoughts had gone through his mind as he died? What had his dreams been? Had his last words been worth remembering? 

The Groza gave no effort to remembering any of these things as he followed his allies after the pitifully easy battle. It would be irrelevant all too soon, be it hours or centuries. Both the beauty of this palace, soon to become more beautiful still as his ice renewed it, and the horrors of this war, soon to grow more horrible as he took his trophies, were not going to remembered long. He would not break his apathy for something so minor. 

\----------------------------------------------------------  
Droplets of water coalesced beneath a great cloud, a corpse of a Groza who had gone past. Fire had vaporized its body, but could not stop the phoenix-like rebirth from occurring. Ice, water, steam, and thus did the cycle always repeat. Just the same as the fiery giants rebirthed from molten cores below the ground, the icy giants rebirthed from the freezing clouds above. The deluge crashed down, a waterfall that would find its way through streams and rivers down to poles where even the fire giants’ heat could not reach, and there find a new body in glistening ice. But it was not to be for this body of water. A great valley hemmed it in, and though the water peered through every nook and cranny to escape its prison and become solid, it could find no escape. The body of water could only grow and grow, anxiety to be free growing as yet more mind, more mass was added to it. Its only company was all of the rest of itself. Memories of clashing fire and ice, lives lost and born, all of these were held in the whispers of the inland sea’s waves. They called it the Sea of Sadness. Who was they? The body of water did not know. It did not care.

The earth shook on one day, and the valley shook with it. Innumerable molecules vibrated in the body of water, spray and foam bubbling at the surface and smashing against the stone valley walls with a power to rival the original quake. The sea roared its wishes to the stone, demanded its freedom, and the stone yielded. The largest flood the world had ever known burst forth from stone gates, swamping a battlefield without even noticing, creating a new mountain while destroying others. The water rushed to the pole in ecstatic glee, finally free. All of them, the single being, howled in a roar of crashing waves as it smashed against the frigid pole. Words began to form within itself, the name of its people; Groza. That was all it should have known. But there was so much more. The agony of betrayal, the warmth of love, the terror of a death, the joy of a victory. It supped on these emotions as a titanic figure emerged from the freezing water, larger by far than any who had come before or ever would. Lesser Groza gazed up at the living mountain, transfixed as they barely came up to his knees at best. The titan realized with a start that it even could see, perceiving all the little Groza below it. Sight, yes, it knew what that was. Of course it knew already. The others already knew.

“Who are you?” voices asked the titan, fear and reverence in their whispering tones. A million names came to the mind of the titan. A million possible tones. The will of a whole people. 

“I am...Grozam. And I am free” it breathed, a blizzard before the apex of its head as though to crown it. 

And then it had killed the Fire King and froze the world down to its core.

There was more to the story, Grozam knew with instinctive sureness. The abruptness of the thought, the lack of any climax to the story made that abundantly clear. Sometimes when Grozam looked into fractured pieces of ice from within the oldest mountains, he could see a reflection of a battle against a walking volcano even greater than his own stature, which had only been dragged down by the combined might of himself and all the rest of Groza. In other ancient pieces of ice, however, Grozam saw a tiny flame being snuffed out in an instant by an avalanche. Other times it was two equals fighting for supremacy over the course of days, months, or even years. Others it was a fiery being smaller, but still fighting with determination and grit against fate before being extinguished. It would never matter to the rest of the Groza, for this frozen world was Paradise. Grozam, however, could not help but feel that the story’s details mattered. They mattered because it meant something had ever happened beyond being born and the current millennia of existence. 

Grozam had been a good king. He had been a bad king. He had pretended not to exist. He had been as extravagant as possible. He had even launched himself into orbit and just floated for a few hundred years. The order of it did not matter, but he knew he had tried all of these things in the vast wealth of memory that his long life held. The novelty had only ever lasted for a short moment before it stopped mattering beyond another dull drone in the back of his mind, a chore. They'd had visitors, invaders. They were a minor distraction for a few days until he had left them all frozen statues. He'd then spent a couple years rearranging them into a statue garden and turning their wrecked starships into whatever his mind could conceive (and that was a lot of things) before becoming bored again.

He'd tried to end his existence every way this planet provided the means to do so. Yet he always just pulled himself together good as new. He had accepted the fact he simply could not die.

Grozam was free. He was the peak of the tallest glaciers, the chilled slush of the deepest trench. And yet, the days when he had been trapped as the Sea of Sadness felt desperately more meaningful than any microsecond of this existence. At least sometimes, rarely now, something new would come up. And that made it bearable to look on for that moment. However, he had long since stopped trying to do that himself. It was pointless. Leave it to the other Groza, leave it to alien invaders, leave it to cosmic chance, Grozam knew now that it was pointless for himself even with all the power and intellect he wielded to try to do the same. 

His blue gaze finally fixated itself on movement as a giant black figure entered his palace, carefully avoiding the finely carved etchings of impossible, expressionistic designs that Grozam had carved in the floor for reasons he did not care to remember. 

“How...many...did...you...kill... on...you...way...here...invader? You...should...know...they...don’t...die...anymore…” Grozam drawled to the cloaked figure, taking dull note of the fact that the invader stood inside the sub-zero temperatures of his glacial citadel without being discomforted. “Magic…” Grozam recognized.

“You are well learned” the figure replied, quietly examining the palace. "And you speak the language of the galaxy better than any other on this world."

“I...receive...enough...unctuousness...from..the...others” Grozam rumbled, raising his great form up from the very palace walls and walking towards the invader. As he stood, layers of ice, years worth, broke free and fell to the ground. His dreams had become repetitive long ago. The invader's computers had been enjoyable to read a few times and learning their language had been an amusing distraction.

“I hardly wish to waste your time. In fact, I rather find it all very easy to appreciate. You’re one of the few people I have nothing left to teach to. Your people as well, I merely got the information I needed and left them be. They all speak of you as if you were a god. I can see why,” the stranger continued. Grozam groaned as he tilted his head to the side, gaining the measure of this new being. A dull throbbing in his icy shell made him keenly aware of the incredible power wielded by it, power that perhaps even eclipsed his own. 

“You...are...rather...strong.”

“I am.” And Grozam put that to the test by exhaling a blast of frost so cold that an ice pillar made of millions of needles formed in its wake. A wave of psychic energy stalled the majority of the blast, but even so the frost made its way through the barrier and began to crawl up the invader’s outstretched arm. However, the ice seemed to refuse to cling to his black armor, red runes and curses sparking over it and making the ice slick off like the liquid water that Grozam had only been able to create experimentally lately. Grozam’s head exploded as he processed that thought, shattered by a cleaving blow from a black sword that the figure had swung down on him.

Grozam’s horned head slicked into slush and raced back up his silver body to reform at his neck stump, azure gaze meeting the invader’s amethyst. 

"Impressive. You are now the first being to see this blade drawn and live." The invader twirled the magical construct with a flourish and Grozam met the challenge with blades of ice from his forearms. The blows were crude and heavy, but they had always done the job in the same boringly efficient way. Until now. They were able to scratch the black armor, they were even able to get out a gasp of pain on a heavy blow to the throat of the invader, but they did not kill him. Meanwhile, the black blade of the invader chopped off a limb from Grozam whenever it struck, but they always reattached in a few moments. 

“This...is...fun” Grozam had to admit, smiling just a little with his lizard-like maw. 

“Quite entertaining” the invader agreed, and perhaps the corners of its mouth crinkled up as well under the helmet he wore. “But it’s getting us nowhere. I think a battle of wits will avail us more than this. Unless you would like to fight for a few millenia without result, Grozam.” Grozam’s expression darkened immediately and by mutual, silent agreement, both sets of blades stopped swinging. 

“A...battle...of...wits...then” Grozam grunted, his enthusiasm only slightly dampened. Still, at least he had one memory of being happy for a fleeting moment that would go untainted by repetition. This invader was proving to be as unyielding as the valley wall had been physically, but could he echo sounds back as the valley wall had? “I...start. Four...legs...at...dawn...two...legs...at...noon...thre-”

“Your species doesn’t reproduce that way, from crawling infant to elderly invalid. A clever trick though, taking something from previous alien encounters” the invader interrupted him. Grozam snorted and gestured for the other’s turn to begin. “My turn then. Light creates me and darkness kills me. What am I?” Grozam had to ponder for only half a second before it became very clear.

“Your...nature. Shadow.” Grozam spoke triumphantly. The invader nodded, and Grozam smirked slightly. 

“The...riddle...is...very...accurate...to...your...nature...emperor.” And this much Grozam could devise from the stature of the being, the way it carried itself in such a way as to block out as much light as possible were there any light to block out. What a truly new creature this was. Grozam’s smile cracked the side of his jaw, sending icicles falling off. “My...turn. What...can...you...catch...but...never...keep?”

“I know your feelings are ephemeral” the emperor responded, looking at the palace’s architecture with intrigue. “I know even this citadel will not last much longer. But you would never run from it, would you? You accept the reality of the absence being greater than the false presence of something. Heat and cold, light and shadow…The survivors of the invasions to your planet always weep in terror about it. They do not have our breadth of experience at all, Grozam.”

“You...came...here...for...me” Grozam hissed, the accusation garnering a nod from the emperor. The confirmation of it made Grozam’s palace itself respond to its master’s building...anticipation, impressionist swirls coating the walls and icicles. 

“And you will be coming with me. Because I know your languor longs to be spread out, to challenge the void and find meaning within it” the emperor acknowledged of Grozam, stepping over a swirl and getting very close to the giant of ice. 

“Only...if...your...riddle...beats...me” Grozam demanded.

“I am at the beginning of all things. I am at the end of eternity. There is but one path from my beginning to my end. My whole embodies desolation.” Grozam’s palace froze even more than it already was, the new ice formations responding to his command ceasing their motion.

“It’s me!” Grozam snapped out quickly, too quickly. And immediately, he knew it was the wrong answer.

“It’s us” the emperor corrected triumphantly. Grozam’s sapphire orbs held the emperor’s figure in his gaze, listening for any deception. The emperor could not possibly have such a deep conviction, nothing ever did. And yet, all of the palace’s ice walls spoke the same confirmation.

“You...speak...truly...emperor.”

“Follow me then, Heavenly King Who Hears All. And you shall hear even more than that which you have already heard. Perhaps somewhere out there you will even find one that is a more even challenge for you than I.”

And thus Grozam’s apathy was justified.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The great hall of the decimated palace echoed with a symphony so shrill and loud as to shatter some of the icicles that Grozam’s path created. The three Heavenly Kings entering the hall did not react to the howls of agony at first, but even they had to pause and take stock as they witnessed the make-up of the orchestra. A great horn of flesh, twisted together in daisy-links of spines and hollow tubes of flesh, screeched another note. The horn had strings too, strummed by a bloody, blue paw in time to the screams. Whatever beings had been used as raw materials for the horn still squirmed, kept alive beyond death by a power which rivaled the blackest of magics. Even Grozam’s ice seemed to not end their suffering, turning flesh black with frostbite yet not killing them. The player of the abominable instrument seemed lost to the presence of the other kings, eyes closed as it jerked the horn about to some hideous beat.

“Yapool, if you’re done with your fun…” Faust rumbled, narrowing his eyes as he stared at the foul instrument.

“Even for you this is...unnatural.” Genoa added. “If the emperor was here he would not be enjoying this.”

“It’s...not...even...good...music” Grozam added, intensifying the wave of cold coming from his body in an attempt to silence that awful instrument. Finally the instrument’s notes quieted, and their colleague seemed to notice them. He was bulky and dinosaurian, with a gnashing beak and unicorn-like horn topping his orange head and spines coming from a blue underbelly and arms. He looked at its damaged instrument and laughed.

“Thanks for the popsicle, Grozam!” Yapool declared, biting into the frozen instrument and crunching it up in a deliberate fashion. “But you need to work on your taste. That used to be this planet's finest musician, and this is the finest piece of the fourth dimension!”

“If only you would but grant us some peace” Faust sneered caustically, crossing his arms and hovering at one corner of the room. Yapool’s gaze glittered, a reptilian tongue swishing around his beak. 

“I will, but first I need to find the last one.”

“The last one?” Genoa asked. “Perhaps we don't turn this one into a meat puppet?”

“Don’t patronize me, Genoa, I can do far better than puppets” Yapool grinned, and if possible the dinosaurian form’s shadow seemed to tingle and shake in the low light of his comrade’s eyes. “Now then, come out...Remember our deal. You listen to my performance, and I listen to your pleadings for your life.” Slowly, a shivering, tiny form emerged from the darkness, approaching Yapool’s shadow. The other three kings watched impassively, already knowing that this creature most assuredly would be pleading for something very different in a moment.

“P-p-please, I listened, it was wonderful music. L-l-let me go. I just want to walk away” the pitiful creature sniffled and sobbed desperately. Yapool leaned his great skull down and nodded slowly. 

“Such a good audience member. Of course, I promise you that nobody in this room will harm you.” The creature spent a solid ten seconds sobbing out thank you’s at the feet of the giant dinosaur before scrambling to its feet and running away. A moment later, they reappeared at the dinosaur’s feet. 

“Wha-? How did I get back here?” the creature blubbered. The dinosaur clicked its beak and shook its head.

“Silly me, it is rather dark. You might get lost. Here, I can provide some light for you to follow. Just take this path. The rainbow always leads the way…” the dinosaur purred, making a gesture with his paw and illuminating a rainbow-like track on the icy floor emanating from Yapool’s shadow. The creature wasted no time in following it, shouting back its thanks to Yapool for its mercy. It had not taken more than ten steps before the rainbow track suddenly reared up. The poor creature’s body bent with it, spaghettifying to a horrified scream as thousands upon thousands of eyes appeared from Yapool’s shadow. They blinked, and their lids held yellowed gnashing teeth which grabbed the little creature and tore its flesh and skin. Arms and hands from the shadow groped blindly, all of their eyes too busy biting to provide any guidance. Still, by sheer force of numbers they dragged down the screeching survivor into Yapool’s shadow, and the screams did not stop echoing throughout the hall for an uncountably long moment.

“Oh, but the other me isn’t even in this dimension” Yapool cackled, waving good-bye mockingly to his shadow. The shadow’s many eyes all blinked happily and waved with their stubby arms before sinking away into the other dimension, having consumed yet another victim who would long for death but not receive it.

“What the fuck, Yapool!” the other three heavenly kings said in unison. Yapool merely raised up his head in a hearty titter, his shadow creeping up the wall of the hall and making his presence seem twice as large. The dinosaurian form had seemed powerful in its bulky strength, but it seemed no more imposing now than the lamp of some malefic djinn.

“That was entirely unnecessary, demon. The emperor wants the world conquered and then our report, nothing more” Faust grunted, clenching the hilt of his blade though he knew it was a futile threat. For a being such as Yapool, death was less than irrelevant. He knew from experience, all of them had killed Yapool's puppeted bodies at least once. Grozam had done it until he'd gotten bored. That'd at least annoyed the deathless, extradimensional Yapool.

“Au contraire, it was entirely necessary. I was bored.” It was a childish response, without any sense of conscience. Of course, conscience had never held any role in Yapool’s cruelty.  
\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
The tensile strength of skin in the third dimension was very disappointing. Put it into the fourth dimension, however, and it became much more pliable. Pliable enough to entirely cover a skyscraper whose rooms were a mile wide but had a breadth measured in inches. These properties were slightly interesting to Yapool, but less so than the agonized wails that they could literally see. Sound waves bending in space with every new agony and striking against Yapool’s gaze were horrible to witness, and that was why Yapool loved them.

“Did you know the color of your blood is delicious?” Yapool asked idly, a thousand thousand voices echoing in the omnicolored void of the pocket dimension. 

“I disagree, if we add uranium to it it’d make a far better smell” said another voice, identical in cruelty and spirit even if the tone was slightly different to the barely living carcass that served as Yapool’s entertainment. 

“If we put in about a million tons of muscle and make their skin into cellulose and add an electrical generator, then that would taste brilliant!”

“But it would take a million years to make a portal for something like that!”

“It’d be worth it! The hatred and agony of it, imagine the way it would look!”

“Of course you’d think with eyes. A hundred thousand tons is enough. And then, we can see her squish the rest of her pathetic little family. We need to keep her consciousness intact for that. I think I can feel it trying to run off over there.” A fleeting blue light in the impossibly large void had tried to skulk off from the torture, but a snatch of an indescribable tendril that had height, width, and a couple of other things violently it shoved back home. “Oh, that might have broken it a little. But it’s intact enough!” It was no different from what Yapool did all the time in spirit, even if the details were always different. Another planet violated and despoiled by a tortured, mangled together mountain of meat would yield ever more raw material for Yapool’s experiments. All could try to flee, but they would never escape the extradimensional being’s grip.

“YAPOOL! I CALL TO YOU!” But none had ever SOUGHT out Yapool either. The void twisted in shock, freezing to something like glass for a moment. 

“Did I smell right?”

“I saw it!”

“A suicide?”

“A sacrifice,” Yapool finally came to an agreement, ramming itself against the barrier of space-time separating it from the psychic call and shattering it like so much crystal. Eyes with mismatched tongues dribbling beneath their sockets stared out at their summoner, huge yet tiny by comparison being in black armor looking at all of them fearlessly. One of the Yapool thought he tasted like death, another like entropy. It was a peculiar flavor, but a powerful one.

“Yapool, extradimensional devil, you will join at my side.” The creature panted, but Yapool saw through dimensions to notice that it had no lungs to need air with. Perhaps it had recently lost them and it was out of habit. Three dimensional forms were so limited, sometimes. 

“Join you? Ahahaha! You may have summoned me, but all you’ll be doing is joining me as a choju!” Two such beasts leaped out from the portal, their eyes replaced with long metallic blades and skating forward on their knees. Each was larger than the summoner was, their skin splitting apart with black and red muscles of both metal and flesh.

“I am not here to play games, Yapool!” the summoner boomed, raking the air with a swing and slashing apart one of the choju with a wave of psychic power. The survivor lunged forward and drove its eye spikes into the summoner’s chest, but the summoner merely let out a furious roar as he grabbed it by the neck and twisted it around hard enough to break every piece of reinforcement inside of its muscular neck. 

“But I am!” Yapool boasted, invoking yet another twisted abomination from its dimension. Before this one could even emerge its head was blown off by a surge of red and black energy. Yapool noticed that with interest, blinking rapidly and realizing that the sky above them was pure blackness. In fact, the entire environment was entirely dark and inhospitable to most life. Not for this being though, who seemed to drink in the darkness. “You’re quite the freak of nature, you know that?” Yapool asked rhetorically to the infuriated being. “I mean, I’m glad you’re alive, very fun to look at, and possibly the last of your kind, which makes you highly collectable, but you’re not supposed to be alive, are you?” The taunt had the desired effect, driving the summoner forward towards the portal and shoving his head into the void. 

“I...survived...for...a...cause. And that cause needs you, Yapool!” The summoner did not retreat from the insane kaleidoscope of sensations from the fourth dimension, the fires erupting from nowhere and the stench of so many torture machines, much to Yapool’s surprise. It powered its way further into the fourth dimension, batting aside a vat full of raw materials and staring with such intensity that Yapool’s overpowering presence quaked a little. “I’m still calling you out! Now come out and face me, face to face if you dare!”

“Which face?!” Yapool screamed in return, all of their mouths gaping open and rushing towards the summoner. The summoner staggered as the teeth chipped at his armor and acidic slobber burnt at him, pushing him towards the exit of the dimension. Yapool would gladly stuff and mount this being, but it would be done strictly on their terms, not at the demands of such an imperious wretch! However, the summoner did not yield to the assault, only continuing his demand. 

“Face me!” 

“You will not make demands of us!”

“Face me!”

“We will not-!”

“FACE ME!” And that aura of death and entropy that Yapool had sensed became so overpowering that even within Yapool’s own dimension, they could sense it. A conviction for a cause that burnt with a black fire that would consume worlds. The many mouths stopped their gnawing, leaving the summoner to stand in the void covered in scars but alive. The Yapool swallowed his blood gluttonously. It tasted bitter, nihilistic.

“Oh, you’re a really fun one” Yapool realized, tittering among themselves as they realized his nature. If ever there was one who could have been Yapool’s playmate, this one might be it. “What’d you have in mind?” Yapool asked, expecting a pedestrian answer. A demand to destroy one planet or take down a spurned lover. Yes, this summoner would make the demand, tremble in fear at the thought of not having it granted, and then Yapool would make him wish for death. Always best to do that after inspiring a little mix of hope and fear. 

“I want to remind people of what they really are. Of a world without any light from their precious stars. I want the end of all light. Every. Last. Ember. And I want the most delusional of all peoples, the most arrogant, the Ultras to kneel and face the truth. The utterly crystal clear reality which they deny!” the summoner boomed with Stygian power swirling about his form. 

“Well, We won’t lie, that’s a more surprising ambition than I had guessed” Yapool conceded, the void pulsing. “And very impressive speech, it deserves some celebratory music." With that, the summoner found what looked like a deformed, mutilated head thrown at his feet that wouldn't stop screaming. "You’re acting like some kind of emperor, but we still don’t see why we should care. We hate the Ultras too, but why should We give a single flying bowel about your command?” The summoner stared at the void a moment more and then turned on his heel and walked right out. All of the Yapool collective roared in sudden indignation. “Who are you to turn your back on us when We're speaking to you?! We’ll flay you to dollrags!”

“I’m the one who will do all of what I just said, with or without your help. And you can stand there and watch me do what you never could because I will never yield.” Yapool was speechless as the ‘emperor’ turned around to glare at the collective. “You can either have all of your murderous fun at my side, as a king to my ‘emperor’, or you can cower away in your dimension knowing that the man who will turn the universe to darkness is me and not you.” Nothing but the wind made a noise between the powerful beings, the emperor’s words having made the air so thick it was practically solid. 

“How many will We have for our experiments if We, hypothetically, join with you?” Yapool finally rumbled. 

“I don’t micromanage. Once they learn their lesson, I care not what becomes of them. So long as you stick to the plot, you can have all the worlds your black soul desires to feed your experiments” the emperor grunted bluntly. "I merely have one small request."

"And that would be?"

"You keep their torture chambers pitch black."

“...Hehehe...Oh, We like that idea. We love it!” Yapool’s entire, undefinable form rippled in a great cacophony of cackles, bursting out staccato from the void as the emperor’s unflinching eyes grasped its vastness. "Colors are much more vivid on black, their misery and organs will taste so much more delectable."

“Then I call you forth, Yapool! Heavenly King who shall make my empire grow! Yapool, you are the Heavenly King Who Grows The Realm!” the emperor declared with a grandiose flourish of his powerful arm, drawing greater snickers from the extradimensional beast.

“You know you’re making a deal with the Devil, right, Emperor?” Yapool said, prodding him one last time. 

“That would require having a soul to sell. And I assure you, in a crucible of sable that weakness has been purified from me” the Emperor said, turning his back once more and stalking off. 

“Oh, then We can’t help but feel we got the short end of the deal” Yapool said, gaze fixed intently on the Emperor’s back.

“Oh, you’ll have plenty of souls to do with as you wish. A great, great deal of souls over the next millennia. In fact, if you manage to find any survivors in the system beyond this portal, consider them a downpayment.” 

Yapool’s cruelty slavered with anticipation at what horrors this dark being would unleash upon the universe.

\------------------------------------------------------

Yapool looked at the spinal column and skull Grozam still held. "...Are you going to finish that?" Grozam’s eyes flashed with a dull light, holding the head slightly closer to himself. Yapool’s bulky choju form let out a hissing rattle, seeming prepared to advance on Grozam for the right of having the gory prize. Genoa and Faust looked on impassively, placing their bets as to who would win this squabble. However, just as Yapool took a step forward, the palace’s ceiling exploded. A shockwave leveled half of the millennia old palace, quaking the earth for miles around and instantly killing any stragglers left nearby.

Of course, the Four Heavenly Kings were not so simple to kill. Yapool’s sturdy choju body resisted the blast with brute strength, digging its huge paws into the floor to keep from being sent flying and letting out a furious roar as its armored hide ignored the shrapnel from the meteor’s impact. As Yapool’s choju body shrugged it off, Grozam’s face was caved in by a stray chunk of rubble. However, he did not fall, merely taking a single step backwards before his skull reconstituted itself, liquefying around the rubble and forcing it out as it froze into a reptilian grimace once more. Meanwhile, Faust deftly teleported between shards of rubble, slashing apart those which he did not avoid with blurred sweeps of his sword. Just behind Faust, Genoa merely formed a portal in front of himself and allowed all of the rubble to fly into deep space harmlessly without ever touching him or his loot. 

As the dust settled, the four warrior kings still stood strong amidst the ruin. 

"...Well...that...happened…" Grozam said simply.

Meteorite strikes were nothing new to the group, be it from sheer chance or failed assassination attempts. Even so, the kings took an extra second to look at the meteorite. The odds of a meteorite strike in a system whose anti-meteorite orbital defenses were still intact were bizarrely slim, especially with their flagship and fleet still in orbit. Still, accidents did happen sometimes, and soon three of the kings relaxed. One of them, however, only voiced his growing displeasure.

"Come on! I hadn't finished looting that for more treasures!" Genoa groaned exasperatedly, shaking his claw in the air at the inanimate meteor. His treasure-carrying robot had managed to survive the blast, but sparks all over its chassis made it quite clear it would not be picking up any more. And even if it could, what could it pick up from the smashed hoard? Genoa gave the robot a kick in frustration. “Damn assassins! I calculate an 87.5% chance it was the ELF this time! I knew that Faust should have been more thorough!”

"...Which...one...was...that?...They...all...bleed...together," Grozam replied.

"Who cares? All those delightful natives were vaporized," Yapool replied, snorting steam from the choju body’s nostrils. "And it wasn't by me! I didn't even get to taste their misery!"

Faust ignored the accusations from Genoa, furrowing his brows as he glanced at the meteorite’s hundred meter deep crater more closely. His instincts told his fingers to not leave his sword, and his battle hardened instincts generally merited listening to. “Take another look at it…” he advised his compatriots.

The four kings gave the meteorite a look now, gazing down into the crater to find a gigantic meteor sitting at the bottom, its size eclipsing even their own titanic statures. Rather than heated metal, stone, or ice, this meteor seemed to be something else entirely. Rather than its light fading slowly, if anything it seemed to intensify its light constantly, pulsing regularly. 

"...Quite unusual for a meteor to survive that kind of impact unharmed," Faust muttered, keeping his guard up high. .

"It has a very peculiar flavor," Yapool recognized, its fourth dimensional senses probing the crystalline structure. "Like mass extinction with a hint of devastation. Fun!"

"Someone...should...check...it...out…" Grozam grunted, eyes narrowing as his icy fog did not immediately supercool the meteor’s exterior. 

"He's right. We should analyze it immediately and report it to His Majesty" Faust replied sharply, glancing expectantly at Genoa. 

Genoa gave a growl but obliged. "Fine…You know, Faust, if you keep on having paranoid delusions like this I think you’ll be mentally incompetent to serve in a few more cycles. Yapool has more than enough insanity for all of us." The Deathre leapt up and floated down next to the space rock before tapping it with his claw. After a second knock, he kicked it. "Anyone home?" he asked almost mockingly. The crystalline structure was certainly bizarre, but that was hardly any reason to start poring over every detail of yet another chunk of space debris. He then turned back to his fellows. "It’s just an ordinary space rock, nothing to fuss over. The Emperor’s busy sitting on his throne and brooding, and you know how he hates having his me-time interrupted for nonsense."

Just as Genoa was about to leap out of the crater, suddenly, every piece of metal in the area began to rattle like there was another earthquake going on. From the palace’s wreckage to the sword in Faust’s hand, all the metal twisted and turned to the tune of some macabre, unheard music. Faust’s powerful grip prevented his sword from being torn from his grip, but all the rest of the metal in the area immediately began to shoot towards the meteorite as if attempting to reverse the strike. Genoa quickly created another portal, this time spewing flames from the hole to vaporize the oncoming projectiles to slag. He gave a frantic cry as he saw that even his personal Imperializer was being dragged towards the meteor as well, and by consequence towards his stream of solar fire. Centuries of precious artifacts which were destined to adorn Genoa’s extravagant palaces were gone in a flash of light and a furious shriek from the Deathre.

"What's happening?!" Genoa shouted over the clanging and scrapping of metal, whipping around and glaring at the meteor murderously.

"It's...magnetized…" Grozem muttered simply. Yapool’s eyes widened, and then the choju began to laugh throatily, to the tune of a joke that none of the other Heavenly Kings had heard. However, if Yapool found it amusing, it was almost certainly not good.

“Genoa, out of the pit, now! Brace yourself!” Faust ordered, and though he hissed defiantly Genoa obeyed his senior nonetheless. Fire bloomed near Genoa, the Deathre more than willing to destroy that accursed thing for how it had humiliated him. He would not hear the end of this incident for a long while, and the shame made him almost physically twist in self-pity.

"Well at least this can't get any worse…" the Deathre muttered before suddenly, the magnetism stopped and the meteor cracked like an egg with a chick ready to be born. "...Something's coming out of it, isn't it? Impossible, there is nothing alive that shoots eggs through space! The durability needed to survive it, it’s not possible!"

“It...is...possible,” Grozam rasped.

Yapool stopped his tittering just long enough to snigger, “Oh, we’re in for a horrible treat!”

His singular eye widening, Genoa was greeted by the meteor shattering open in a massive pillar of hellish flames. The screams of countless tormented souls filled the room as if a portal to Hell itself had been torn asunder. It was worse than the sounds from Yapool’s realm; at least those were in a dimension so different it was unrecognizable. These were far too hauntingly familiar, too raw, as they began to slowly condense and become a different noise entirely; a devil’s laughter. 

A mass of light ignited in the center of the inferno among a series of smaller detonations, causing the flames to cease expanding and begin imploding inward. 

"It's taking some kind of form…" Faust muttered in awe.

The condensing flames began to take shape. First, great tongues of fire twisted into a pair of great, draconic wings, then a pair of twin tails. Powerful and stocky legs took shape and at last the outline of three heads began to form. Fire became golden scales and flesh, and what looked like yellow lightning crackled off chaotically from the meteor’s disgorged form. It crashed against a light blue barrier swiftly erected by Faust, sparking across the Mefilasian’s shield and seeming to frame the beast from the crater. 

Faust cringed. "Such power…"

"...It's...not...even...trying…" Grozam observed, jaws perhaps slightly twisting towards a smile.

The six crimson eyes snapped open, letting out the screeching roar that had acted as the final trumpet call of thousands of worlds. Even the four Kings who had ended many worlds themselves couldn't help but shudder at its sound.

The golden hydra whose passing left only flaming ruin. Worlds more advanced than this planet had ever glimpsed left dead and uninhabited. The King of Terror had arrived.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The thrones of conquered planets had only one name, only one master once touched by the darkness. There had been many thrones, one for each world who had been made pure and whole by the touch of the Emperor. This one, hewn from the world upon which the Four Heavenly Kings currently stood, was only the most recent one to grace the throneroom of the Emperor. An elbow rested upon its stone armrest, and upon the hand attached to it rested the Emperor’s chin.

A warning flashed before him, alerting him of a nearby meteor hurtling to the planet’s surface. It was fast and large, and converging on the position of his four kings. Unfortunate to spoil their fun when he had promised them a free rein, but unfairness was the nature of things. Besides, the strike would be a small matter to the greater sphere of operations once the atmosphere’s friction had taken its toll on it. Be it ship or space debris, the Emperor’s planet spanning darkness yielded to very little. He would never wish for his subjects to feel neglected, after all. 

However, this meteor scorned his protection with the utmost contempt, sailing to the ground and barely losing any of its mass. The Emperor ignored the flashing warning signs being relayed to him by lesser peons, the pressure in his throne room increasing tenfold in an instant. A fine, hairline crack appeared on his new throne as the dread Emperor rose from it, a tenebrific sphere obscuring his physical form as he deigned to move.

The Bogar guards around him all cringed, wisely moving out of his way for fear he'd walk through them without notice. The Emperor always took the natural path, the path of least resistance. In this case, it was the massive hole in the floor left by the time the latest Heavenly King had tried to challenge the Emperor. His dread form floated down the hole, with arms crossed and eyes narrowed as he moved to deal with this rebel.

Challengers to the Emperor’s power were not new. And this one would be dealt with the same as all the rest.


	5. Syzygy

================================  
[Fight Theme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QjmX06ihiXE)

“TO THE PAIN!!!!” Yapool’s telepathic voice shrieked, infernal guffaws echoing among the screams as its choju body was scourged with tongues of graviton energy. Even the mighty choju was unable to break through the stream of power and was flung off its feet, crashing to the palace floor with a sound like thunder. King Ghidorah swiftly moved to press his advantage, leaping up and preparing to crush down on top of the malformed beast. Before he could do so, a flash of silver rammed into the small of his back, throwing him off course and missing Yapool’s head so only debris from the crater was crushed by his impact.

“Fall, Demon!” Faust snarled, bouncing off of Ghidorah’s spine to continue his assault. His robed finery had been lost throughout the fight, leaving him in brilliant silver armor with blue accents. Even that was being discarded piece by piece, unable to provide much protection against Ghidorah’s brutally powerful attacks. The space hydra whipped around, deceptively swift as he thrust his three maws towards the Mefilasian while he hung in mid-air. They snapped shut on his black silhouette, only to taste nothing in their grip. The illusionary double did not last for long, but it still offered the sword wielding alien an opening to make a heavy overhanded slash right on top of Ghidorah’s middle head. A raw, bloody line was drawn through the dragon’s golden scales, but no more. Faust’s eyes widened as his foe’s twin tails lashed upwards, coiling around his torso and flinging him away. Faust caught himself in mid-air and teleported to the floor to catch his breath. Before Ghidorah could pursue him, a veritable small glacier rapidly began to form around King Ghidorah’s legs and the bases of his wings. Faust noted the speed at which Grozam was moving to attack Ghidorah with some awe.

'This battle has certainly gotten him fired up, more so than usual,' Faust thought as he retreated behind the barrage of ranged plasma and frost from his allies to wait for another opportunity to flank the dragon. The thought of an opponent being strong enough to rouse the apathetic Grozam brought him no comfort when it came to their collective fates.

‘So this monster's scales cannot outright negate more physical attacks’ Genoa concluded in his analysis of the hydra after seeing the plasma of his earlier fireballs wax off the beast while Faust's blade was able to draw blood. Grozam's ice still being able to touch the King of Terror as the frost started to crawl all over Ghidorah's lower body further confirmed his analysis. 'That must be it! If we smash the scales hard enough, it would weaken him enough for us to start blasting him,' The Deathre motioned his hands in a gesture to the other two Kings beside him. He bellowed his commands with an air of authority only a seasoned commander could muster.

“Grozam, catch his legs! Yapool, pierce his heart! And Faust? Don’t fuck it up!” If Genoa had lost his arrogant surety in victory, he didn’t show it as a dozen fireballs glowed in the air around him. Periodically, each of the fireballs would discharge in a barrage of plasma. The balls of plasma struck harmlessly against Ghidorah’s barrier, but they were achieving the objective of obscuring Genoa's comrades from the dragon's gaze. Grozam did not need the command to prompt him, exhaling his hellishly cold breath across Ghidorah’s lower extremities with frenzied gusto.

Nevertheless, the ice didn’t stop the dragon either, only slightly delaying Ghidorah’s movement before his powerful legs shattered the ice attempting to hold him down. Still, the delay was long enough for the burly Yapool to charge its huge mass, bull-like towards Ghidorah. Hidden by the explosions of Genoa’s fireballs and preoccupied with ripping his feet out of Grozam’s ice, King Ghidorah didn’t even see Yapool’s strike until it was too late.

The impact's shockwave would have shattered all the palace windows were there any left, Yapool’s choju-form horn slamming home into Ghidorah's chest with a savage boom. A few gold plated scales crashed to the ground, shattered by the power of Yapool’s impact, but much to Grozam’s excitement, no fountain of blood followed the skewering attempt. 

“It’s…not...enough…” Grozam grinned, taking full advantage of Ghidorah’s brief stumble to extend a blade of ice some 80 meters long from his arm and thrusting it towards Ghidorah’s back at the exact opposite point to Yapool’s horn charge. The super strong ice shattered before piercing Ghidorah’s scales, and Grozam grinned even more. A beast who could resist his icy lances was a rare beast indeed.

Ghidorah’s crimson eyes bulged as the two strongest kings impacted him at once, grimacing with all three maws before unleashing a veritable storm of blasts from his heads and wings. Grozam spat a glob of ice from his maw, freezing the molecules in the air and ceasing one graviton blast, but not another which caused his horned head to explode into a thousand icy chunks. Genoa and Yapool were both staggered by purple shocks from Ghidorah’s wings, the former more so than the latter as Genoa was blasted into Yapool hard enough to send them both tumbling. Ghidorah swung around and wrapped one tail around each of them like a pair of gigantic boa constrictors. 

"Ah, shit…" Genoa grumbled, trying to break free to no avail. Yapool just screeched savagely, bringing his head down and trying to bite Ghidorah’s tail in two with his unnaturally sharp beak. Before either could make headway in their attempts to escape the crushing tails, they felt their feet leave the ground. Giving a sadistic cackle, the golden hydra swung around and hoisted the two off the ground with disturbing ease before hurling them through the wreckage of the castle. The duo crashed through several boulders before tumbling down the steep slopes of a nearby fissure in the ground.

Faust meanwhile, the swiftest of the kings, evaded the graviton blast heading for him with a deft spin in mid-air. His wattle was flashing with a thousand colorful condemnations and curses in his native tongue as he saw his fellow kings driven back, and so Faust raced in to continue the fray. Ghidorah saw him coming and fired a stream of purple lightning from his wings once more, but despite the overwhelming power and speed of the projectiles, Faust panicked very little. Instead, he closed his eyes, let out a small breath, and let his instincts guide him through the cage of lightning and power that threatened to snatch him up like a giant’s claws. Projecting shields from his hands for a fraction of a second to let him slip past streams of Ghidorah’s energy, forming several illusions to throw off the dragon's aim, and even cutting a few from the air with his sword, Faust made his way through the onslaught of lightning and raked his sword down Ghidorah’s ankle. King Ghidorah screeched in frustration, and it was music to Faust’s ears. Faust opened his azure gaze once more as he slid past Ghidorah's leg, not daring to stop for an instant and using Ghidorah’s thrashing tails to reverse his momentum by bouncing off of them quickly. His leap sent him straight for Ghidorah's middle head, the Mefilasian closing the distance in an instant.

“His eyes, his eyes…!” Faust shouted to his teammates, switching his sword to an icepick grip and thrusting it down with intent to blind the King of Terror’s middle head. For a second, Faust felt triumphant at the startled glimmer in those crimson orbs as they stared at the blade approaching them rapidly. However, his battle instincts screamed at him, and he held back his strike just a little bit. Rather than stabbing into Ghidorah’s eye socket, the Mefilasian’s sword stabbed into the King of Terror's pink gums. The blade crashed against the jawbone with a sound like screeching metal, sparks emerging from the contact point as Faust’s sword carved a bloody line through the great dragon’s mouth. The strike provoked a groan of dull pain as the central head reeled back, wounded and angry. Whatever advantage Faust seemed to have had was lost in an instant as Ghidorah’s right head unleashed a colossal stream of gravitons at point blank range. Faust let the momentum from his strike twist him away, but it was not quite fast enough. The blast shattered his chest plate and would have shattered Faust’s ribs as well had he not dodged as fast as he did. But there was nowhere else to go for Faust as six eyes stared at him with the utmost disdain while he was caught mid-dodge. Ghidorah’s two outer heads shot out, each biting an arm and pulling him taut until they felt like they'd be ripped free. The middle head gave a sadistic, blood-spattered grin before the maw opened wide, a yellow glow from within lighting the Heavenly King's face. Faust's eyes widened in fear as his life flashed before his eyes, kicking desperately to get away from Ghidorah. _This couldn't be the end, not yet!_ Just as the golden light exploded forth, space distorted between Faust and Ghidorah and the pointblank graviton blast was sent harmlessly to some far corner of the universe. At the same time, a blast of solar plasma exploded from the portal and right against Ghidorah’s face. The shock of the sudden attack caused Ghidorah’s grip on Faust’s arms to loosen, and the Mefilasian took full advantage to kick off of Ghidorah’s chest to free himself, backflip away, and skid to a stop next to his savior.

“What was that about? ‘His eyes!’, and then you pull back at the last second. You could have blinded him!” Genoa scolded Faust, his overgrown right arm directed towards the portal continuing to blast flames into Ghidorah’s faces. Faust massaged his shoulders, discarding what was left of his armor and staring at the dragon as it refused to die even in the face of Genoa’s inferno. 

“I could have. But I’d have lost my life for sure if I took his eye, and an eye for a life is not a trade that works to our advantage, Genoa,” Faust replied. Genoa glared at his ally for a moment before begrudgingly muttering in agreement as he refocused his attention on Ghidorah as the dragon flew upwards with a great beat of his wings. All three of his heads were blackened with soot and ash, a sight which may have been comical had the situation not been quite so dire. Genoa’s massive portal was left firing into thin air as Ghidorah flew overhead towards the smaller pair of kings, cackling in his horrible way. Genoa snarled, shutting the portal and forming a huge ball of condensed plasma on his right arm. 

"You better stand & watch, Old Man," Genoa boasted as the ball of solar plasma grew in size & intensity. The flames roared as the light was shining across the entire palace ruins. 

"I'm gonna blow this bastard to kingdom come!" He wound back his arm, arcing his body like a bow pulled taut, before flinging the fireball forward with all his might. Genoa’s plan had not been executed perfectly, with the chaos of King Ghidorah’s energy storm having separated the Four Heavenly Kings for a moment. Nevertheless, the double strike from Grozam and Yapool had been executed. Add that blow to Faust’s skilled sword slashes, and more than a few of Ghidorah’s scales were now scattered across the field. Ergo, the barrier was broken, and it was time to burn this upstart to cinders.

“Eat shit, and die young!” Genoa roared with malefic glee as his huge plasma ball collided directly with Ghidorah’s middle head, illuminating the darkened sky blood red with an inferno hot as a star. Genoa turned to look at Faust and bask in his senior’s shock and awe, but he saw only empty space next to him and Faust’s teleportation signature a few hundred meters away. Genoa’s cyclopic gaze jerked back to the explosion above him, and despite the bloom of fire that covered the sky, the triple headed shape was not slowed down whatsoever, merely briefly covered in fire that did nothing to pass its very much still present barrier. “Fuck!” 

An instant before Genoa’s head was severed from his neck by three sets of snapping maws, a blue and gray form leaped in front of Genoa. Grozam extended his ice blades from both arms and thrust them into Ghidorah’s left and right heads. As with Faust’s blade, they pierced gum but not the underlying bone. These blades could do more than cut though. When Ghidorah impacted upon them, they shattered into a cloud of supercooled mist that instantly iced over the wounds left in his maws by the icy blades. This cold did nothing to numb, only exacerbating the stinging pain in Ghidorah’s bloody mouths with the fangs of frostbite. The attack was enough to make Ghidorah wince and screech out loud, instinctually peeling off to the side to avoid the painful frost. So violent was the impact and subsequent turn that Grozam’s arms were snapped off, left dangling from King Ghidorah’s mouths. The King of Terror started blasting energy from his maws to clear the ice and bleeding wounds as he dropped the severed limbs from his jaws. As with all of Grozam's wounds, the arms liquefied and returned to their owner to reform, who by now had cut his face in half with a smile. 

“Don’t expect a thanks, Ice Queen,” Genoa sneered to Grozam, not daring to show the fear he felt from being a second away from death. Grozam seemed to acknowledge him now for the first time as he flexed his newly regenerated fingers. 

“You...were...there?” Grozam said, sparing Genoa only the barest of attention before a furious roar got the attention of all the kaiju present. Yapool charged forth from the fissure he had been pushed into, bleeding from a few dozen wounds all over his scaly form but not halted in the least as he charged Ghidorah’s flying form and actually managed to drag it from the air with his huge paws. The surprising strength of the choju prompted a squawk of disbelief from Ghidorah as he was slammed back down upon the earth with a thunderous boom. The other kings watched with some level of respect as their strongest member straddled Ghidorah’s fallen form, pounding it with his sharp beak, horn, and claws. For a moment, even Ghidorah seemed taken aback, having his heads pounded into the dirt every time he tried to rise. The palace shook as the choju’s brutally powerful blows pounded the dragon and the ground around the pair cracked as the King of Terror was very literally driven into the ground.

“I’ve never tasted a few million souls packed into one! It must be delicious, King of Terror!” Yapool laughed, the biomechanical pistons powering his onslaught redoubling their activity as he bashed King Ghidorah’s heads left and right. Every impact echoed with another bonecrushing shockwave, audible for miles let alone to the other Kings.

“The psycho’s got him,” Genoa analyzed with shaky confidence. The current body Yapool inhabited was huge, smaller than Ghidorah but modified by Yapool's fourth dimensional power to somehow have much more power than normal for its size. In such an advantageous position as the mount, it could beat anything to death in no time. When Yapool got this violent, the bigger concern was leaving enough of a body to even identify.

“Hehehehehe....” Grozam breathed, his ice trailing over Ghidorah’s wings to prevent him from taking flight as the dragon struggled beneath Yapool's pummeling. But he didn’t seem as upset as he should be, given his oh-so-desired rival to his power was being pounded into mulch. 

“What’s so funny?” Genoa demanded of the fellow king.

“Yapool can’t win, not like this,” Faust bluntly explained, teleporting back to the other two kings and gripping his sword tensely. He looked to Grozam and gave a humorless chuckle, “I suppose you’ll have your fight then.” As if hearing his statement and wanting to prove him wrong, Yapool reared backwards and began to fire the horns of his choju body against Ghidorah like homing missiles, each impact chipping off a few more scales. 

“That’s ridiculous, Yapool’s going to ki-” The very moment Genoa made that assessment, he saw Ghidorah’s eyes light up and immediately retracted it. No, the force he felt now could not be analyzed as anything but death for Yapool. His prediction was met an instant later as one of Yapool’s horn projectiles stalled in the skull before being jammed back in with a sound of snapping bone and flesh. It had been **forced** back in by a sudden, massive pulse in gravity. And that could only have one origin. Like a bat from Hell, Ghidorah surged back upright without thought for Grozam’s ice restraints, towering over Yapool and making his bell-like cackle. To his horror, Genoa noted the distinct lack of actual damage. All Yapool had really hurt was the hydra's pride. 

Yapool laughed in return even as Ghidorah’s necks surged forward lightning quick, two biting his arms and one coiling around his throat. The laughs echoed in the minds of all three kings even as Yapool’s huge body was lifted effortlessly off the ground with a few beats from Ghidorah’s huge wings. No matter the choju’s struggles, Ghidorah’s necks kept its limbs from moving and his middle neck just squeezed ever tighter around Yapool’s neck. It shouldn’t have been possible to make any headway on that reinforced mass of artificial tissue and bone, and yet somehow, Ghidorah made the impossible possible as Yapool gurgled blood from his beak. And the effort of doing so didn't seem to tire him, as he simply kept rising higher without pause. Ghidorah’s indelible embrace continued, and pops that were audible even from this distance sounded forth from Yapool’s assaulted neck. The choju’s blue eyes and tongue had turned red, filled up with blood as it gave a few last, choked breaths. Then with a snap so loud one could swear even the fleet in space heard it, Yapool’s neck was tilted backwards almost ninety degrees and that was something even a choju could not survive. Ghidorah let his grip go finally, letting Yapool’s broken neck flop around once or twice before dropping the heavy form from his high altitude.

It impacted like a second meteor, cratering the ground and sending up a huge cloud of dust and earth. If there was any doubt of Yapool’s death, it was assuaged a moment later as the King of Terror flew down with talons thrust forward and crushed down on top of Yapool’s chest. He did it again and again, bouncing on the smaller monster’s body while blood and nameless organs spewed from Yapool’s open maw. Only when its innards were surely nothing but a mass of internal bleeding did Ghidorah cease his assault. And then he turned and stared at the three remaining kings, a terrible gleam in his wicked eyes.

Faust shook the blood from his blade, narrowing his eyes with steely determination.

Grozam’s cloak fluttered in the wind of a blizzard beginning to kick up, cackling rasps periodically emerging from his mouth.

“Well, if there was ever a crew I had to make my final stand beside. I could not have picked a worse lot than you fools,” Genoa scorned his teammates, nevertheless taking a stand next to them. 

Suddenly, Yapool’s corpse began to tremble and shake, spasming with power not of this world. A million sobbing voices morphed into deranged laughs as the choju’s shadow began to extend across the ground and under Ghidorah, reaching a place near the other three Heavenly Kings. Space was forcibly violated, shattered as a portal that made Genoa’s look amateur manifested next to them. Even Ghidorah had to pause and take stock at the incomprehensible mess of prismatic light and all consuming shadow emerging from the portal, a silhouette of something huge and tentacled approaching rapidly through it.

“THaT waSN’T eVeN My FInaL foRm!” Yapool bellowed, with many voices as one. The deathless being’s portal widened even more, preparing to belch out a new body for Yapool to inhabit. This one was far larger than the last one, and emanated an aura so terrible that it seemed to draw some vague curiosity from the space hydra even as it chilled everything else. 

Grozam merely laughed, his cloak distorting as if something inside were about to burst out and the blizzard around him growing so intense that his two comrades had to take a step back. Icy spikes began to race up and down the ground in all directions as the planet was forced to endure the start of an ice age.

Genoa stared in blind shock at the hidden strengths of his allies for a few moments before looking at Faust. 

"...Do YOU have some kind of super power you've been conveniently hiding?!"

Faust merely put both hands on his sword hilt, breathing coolly and bouncing on the balls of his feet once or twice, "This is all I need."

"...Am I the only sane one on this team?"

The five kings all made ready to leap forward and continue their combat when a pressure as weighty as a planet hit all of them. All eyes looked up as a single, ebony figure descended from stormy skies, his cape fluttering behind him. Rather than shine, his armor seemed to drink in the light and his presence seemed to still all battles. When he finally landed, it was with a burst of telekinetic might which extinguished all the fires left by the combat. The Emperor then thrust one hand to his side, gesturing to the kings behind him.

“Hold. I will handle this disgrace myself,” the Emperor rumbled, not taking his eyes off of the dragon. Ghidorah grinned, and his mind which had done nothing but emanate feral savagery suddenly discharged speech into the minds of all present

“I was wondering when you would get off your throne, and stop brooding. I was growing tired of toying with your little kings.” 

“Shit, did he hear me in the meteor?” Genoa muttered, more than a little taken aback by how well spoken what he had assumed was a savage beast was. Faust nodded, both in response to Genoa and his Emperor as he sheathed his sword.

“Awwwww. I wanted to test this one out. I guess no spoilers for you all…” Yapool’s echoing voice hissed as the dimensional gateway shrunk in size and the huge choju silhouette behind the portal disappeared along with the portal itself. The corpse of the choju Ghidorah had slayed suddenly jerked its broken neck upwards, and in its lifeless eyes glowed Yapool’s influence as it was possessed even in death as nothing more than a spectator seat for its master. 

"Oh well, this body's pain will make for a tasty snack for now."

Grozam's blizzard merely died out and he slumped back into his apathetic demeanor, perhaps even more dour and disappointed than before.

“So, you can talk,” the Emperor observed coolly, extending the arm which had been put to his side forward with fingers spread to point towards Ghidorah.

“There had not been anyone worth talking to before now. Though I can do more than talk, I assure you, your Majesty," The hydra drawled as he was leering at the Emperor.

“You can die.” The emperor’s eyes locked with the dragon's, a murderous aura dripping off of him almost so thick as to be tasted. The swirling black miasma that formed the emperor’s sorcery vibrated like the growl of some unfathomably huge monster, shadows expanding to twice their original size as the low light emanating from the kings was almost entirely swallowed up. The oppressive shadows licked at Ghidorah’s own light, a veritable bog of dark magic swelling up as the emperor’s power waxed, all smothering in its vastness. 

Ghidorah’s response was no less overwhelming. He gave a mighty flap of his wings, kicking up dust and sending sparking energy in all directions to clash against the black magic. Whatever wounds the Four Heavenly Kings had left on him were not visible under the powerful glare of golden light that seared the air, denying all but the most stalwart the privilege of even looking at him. Moreover, where the emperor’s power pressed down upon the soul, Ghidorah’s pressed down upon the ground itself. Rocks and ruins crumbled as gravity increased around them, and even the kings had to brace against the sudden gravitational force wielded by Ghidorah.

“What...power…” Grozam hissed, both disappointed and awed as he watched the stand-off between them. Pieces of him fell off every now and then, raked by either the Emperor’s power or Ghidorah’s, only to reform back in a flash of silver.

“Enough of the foreplay, why aren’t they fighting?!” Yapool complained, braggadocious and irreverent attitude not quite succeeding in covering the alien being’s own sense of impressment. He seemed to enjoy the feeling of his ravaged body being further damaged by the chaotic growing energy.

“With powers so incredible as these, they each have their own ‘zone’. They’re waiting for an intrusion into their zone to counter attack; attacking before that is only opening a hole in their zone” Faust explained rapidly, eyes wide open to catch who made the first move. He quickly put up a barrier of his own as the clashing light and darkness sent off sparks and shockwaves that destroyed what very little was left standing of their surroundings. 

“What an opportunity, to analyze our Emperor at his very fullest!” Genoa said, though he analyzed the weak points of both combatants with naked interest in who had the most. He looked over at the disappointed Grozam, "Oh, don't worry, you can fight the winner."

The Emperor’s outstretched hand continued to spew forth its suffocating void, Ghidorah’s wings continued to blaze with uncontainable light. Neither made any move but to appreciate the melding clash of the arrogant light and self-assured dark, the very air between them a battlefield of their wills. 

Unseen to the Four Kings, both tyrants reached out psychically into the other's mind, trying to get a read on their foe only for their psychic forms to grapple and clash in the mindscape for a few moments to no avail. Seeing neither could invade the other in the mental world either, they backed off. Then, as if by some hidden agreement, the battle of the two most powerful creatures in the galaxy surged in intensity. 

[Fight Theme](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2dmrr3DxUK4)

Ghidorah’s heads surged forward, golden light building in all of his maws along with a cackling scream. The Emperor’s outstretched hand swung through the air, a faint scarlet light on his fingers the only sign of any attack. The psychic attack was just that little bit quicker than the graviton beam, and a titanic shockwave slammed into Ghidorah with a sound like thunder. The dragon’s heads strained for just a moment, muscles bulging all along their length as they attempted to resist the psychic power and fire their attack. No matter his effort though, Ghidorah’s necks suddenly whiplashed backwards hard, curling back so much that his horns struck his own back. The stored gravity beams fired uselessly towards the earth behind Ghidorah, causing a massive explosion of earth and plasma to erupt, only matched in size by the clods of obliterated soil thrown up by the Emperor’s psychic shockwave. 

Though the explosion of his own attack briefly stunned the King of Terror, Ghidorah’s necks quickly whipped back up to regain his bearings and dispel the dust cloud with a quick burst of plasma from his wings. His eyes glowing a baleful scarlet as he sighted the Emperor, Ghidorah let loose a spine chilling screech when he felt the Emperor’s psychic hold continuing to try making a prisoner of him. With incredible brute strength, Ghidorah’s taloned feet began to move in defiance of the Emperor’s psychic will. Each step carried his huge body forward like an out of control train, forcing his way through the psychic power that even now attempted to slow him down. The King of Terror’s footfalls crushed the trembling ground as he pressed on ever closer to the Emperor. If he could get in close, he could leverage his greater size and strength over the smaller being. This truth that Ghidorah knew, however, was one Empera knew just as well.

The moment the Emperor felt his will being defied, his free hand wasted no time in shooting forward in a knife handed strike. Crimson telekinetic energy was so dense around his strike that his gauntleted hand seemed to look almost like a small comet as the thrust discharged a piercing shockwave right into the middle of Ghidorah’s chest. The scales which had resisted the Four Heavenly Kings’ attacks held up for only a few instants, flying off of Ghidorah’s chest in an eruption of shattered scales and gushing blood, his ichor for the first time in the battle spilled through his armor. Though King Ghidorah's impressive durability prevented his ribcage from being imploded, gallons of his blood still rained down upon the planet’s soil. The King of Terror’s charge was not stalled in the least by the gouge in his chest. If anything, he was invigorated by the pain as his tripled cackle echoed loud and clear. His legs bent for just a moment before kicking off of the ground and allowing him to take to the air, the telekinetic pressure keeping him grounded having weakened just a little when the Emperor had attempted to pierce his chest. Ghidorah relished the look of shock in the alien warlord’s eyes as his talons smashed right into the Emperor’s black helmet, deforming the metal on impact. Nevertheless, the helmet and its wearer's own respectable durability held strong against the impact, stopping a would be decapitation from the impact as the Emperor was violently dragged for a few hundred meters by Ghidorah’s talons.

With an earth shattering crash, the unwilling flight of the Emperor was stopped by being ground up against a cliffside and half buried in rockslides caused by his violent impact upon it. Still in flight, King Ghidorah cut a sharp corner in the air, revealing the light glowing in his three mouths in cruel mockery. It was far too late to dodge anything as he reared his heads back before firing a huge triple gravity storm, so bright that it would have exceeded the last light seen by the survivors of this sunless planet. The Emperor blew away the rocks covering him with a mere grunt, looking up at the light with a furious hiss. One hand grabbed a hold of his great cape and swept it about in front of his body, as though a matador with a bull. It seemed a futile gesture to attempt to escape death, his movement not near fast enough to avoid the blast. But the Emperor had never intended to avoid it.

As the bolt of graviton power struck his cape, it seemed to simply vanish. What had appeared to simply be a silk the color of night now revealed its enchanted nature, rippling and twisting as the great dragon’s blast was siphoned of its light and negated. More than negated, it was being swallowed up by his magical cape without leaving even a trace behind. It was the ultimate shield against light, stopping it entirely before it could so much as get near the Emperor. However, Ghidorah’s attack did not stop. The dragon only intensified his triple headed blast, the golden light so bright that even that finely made magical object could not fully withstand it. Along the cape’s edges, light tore free of its prison, readying to vent its wrath on the dark being who had dared to try to imprison it. The Emperor’s eyes widened a moment before a massive fireball engulfed him, the triple beam’s excess power finally being allowed to explode upon a target as his cape’s limits were exceeded. Dust and a shockwave from the blast blew all things near the Emperor’s form away, reducing the cliff he had been standing next to to rubble. 

“His Majesty…” Faust gaped in shock as the explosion’s power was felt even by the kings some distance away. Up in the dark sky, the King of Terror roared victoriously, looking down towards the smoking crater caused by his blast. All of the Four Heavenly Kings had their own reaction as the battlefield fell silent for a moment, schemes of treachery or loyalty floating within each twisted mind. Some pondered whether to attack Ghidorah while he was weakened and others pondered if he would accept their fealty. The time for those decisions was not to be then, however. 

Black miasma surged down from the sky and swallowed up the flames which had entirely covered the blast site, extinguishing the light which had dared to show itself on the sunless world. King Ghidorah’s victory cry trailed off, his brows furrowing as the black magic siphoned up all the hurled up dust to reveal a form at its nexus. From the ebon fog strode the Emperor, far from death or serious injury. Only a small part of his cloak had been burnt through by Ghidorah’s beam, but the armor on the hand he had used to hold his cape was warped to the point that the hand within could scarcely move a finger. Multiple 'streams' of pure darkness bled from the hand in what would be gallons into the air, seeming to glow as the light it sucked in formed a halo around it.

"He's...he's bleeding…" muttered Faust in disbelief.

“You dare to wound me?” The Emperor’s voice was surprisingly quiet, and all the more lethal for it. His wounded hand shot towards the sky and a huge bolt of energy the same color as Ghidorah’s eyes erupted forth from it. His whole arm was wreathed in power, crackling lightning spiraling off in all directions as he arched his arm backwards. The malefic magic condensed itself then, concentrating all of itself into an eerily small black and red orb hovering in his hand. Like his blood, to say it 'glowed' would be inaccurate. It merely gave the appearance of it from the light it devoured. Even the Emperor’s damaged gauntlet was subsumed into the black and red sphere, not dark enough to satisfy that insatiable core of shadowy energy. In spite of the terrible power held within his hand being ready to be discharged, the Emperor’s next words were eerily calm. 

“What did you hope to accomplish here tonight, King Ghidorah?”

King Ghidorah had prepared himself no less for a final assault, wings glowing with so much plasma that they were veritably purple and each head twitching as they held a truly absurd mass of gravitons within them. The blast he had unloaded into the Emperor’s cape was massive, but Ghidorah had hardly been tired by it, drawing on some endless pool of power made only for mass murder and destruction as he prepared to smite the Emperor. The already ruined ground was further lashed by renegade bolts of energy spiraling off of King Ghidorah’s wings, shattering boulders and carving ditches into the soil.

Genoa quietly opened a portal in preparation to flee. The power between the two forces before him was liable to destroy the entirety of the landmass they were standing on at this point, even just being in the vicinity of the clash might be a threat to his life. His eye carefully analyzed the two great powers’ body language, sensing for the slightest spike in aggression. Only when the Emperor’s words were heard did the dragon do anything that might not be construed as a preparation for a lethal attack. He grinned.

"A test. You have passed," Ghidorah stated simply, lowering the intensity of his charge until the glow of his attack was nonexistent as he descended back down upon the earth. The Emperor’s head cocked in surprise, and his amethyst gaze widened ever so slightly. In slow recognition, his own arm fell too. 

“Fucking pussies!” Yapool sneered, the only one of the Four Heavenly Kings to not have their jaw metaphorically drop at the sudden accord between the pair of powerful aliens, his limp, shattered jaw notwithstanding. Both the Emperor and King Ghidorah, with sudden swiftness and savagery, discharged a bolt of power against the remains of Yapool’s choju body. The gory explosion only avoided covering the other kings by a quick barrier from Faust blocking the collateral. None of them spared much grief for Yapool; it would be back in some other mangled body within minutes and the penalty for insulting the Emperor was well known. The latter was exactly why Faust nevertheless approached with trepidation, unsure of whether the Emperor’s mind may have been affected by some kind of psychic power to make him stop the fight after being so insulted.

“Your Majesty, if your humble servant may make a small request of you...what has changed to stay your hand?” Faust asked, mandibles clicking warily as he cast a side glance at Ghidorah. The dragon seemed to relish his anxiety, letting out a few sadistic titters. 

“The hydra came here with more than simple chaos on his mind. Even beasts can have their uses if they are more than their baser urges,” the Emperor rumbled, swishing his hand down the side of his ragged cape and reforming its tattered tips until the magical object was whole once more. Ghidorah snorted at the Emperor’s blatant disrespect.

“Your Majesty, when our minds clashed I found a great many things,” He let the words hang in the air deliberately, appreciating the way that the Emperor’s hands tensed at the thought of his past being exposed. “You intrigue me greatly, Empera,” The hands tensing became fists now, but the Emperor did not rise to the occasion, merely nodding his head in acknowledgement.

“Your point? I am not so amenable to flattery as to be charmed by a serpent’s smile and tongue,” Empera replied.

“My being is natural. The weak must die, the strong thus survive. But, there are some with deluded ideas about the natural order, are there not? The beings from the Land of Light,” King Ghidorah said, drawing closer to loom over the smaller alien. “I think then that we have a common enemy and cause in destroying them for spreading their venomous creed throughout the universe.”

“And now you have my interest. But you will forgive me if I am… suspicious of your motives. I saw your mind as well in our clash,” Empera countered, tilting his head, “Your entire history is nothing but betrayal. Betrayal of your own brethren, betrayal of countless ‘allies’, and of course the ultimate sin; lying to yourself.” Now it was King Ghidorah’s turn to feel stung, gritting his teeth and letting out a small hiss. 

"I do not lie to myself, but you are correct, I do deceive others." The Emperor grunted noncommittally at that, unconvinced. “But what is a truth is that I plan on attacking the Ultra homeworld myself. You saw that too.”

“...I did.”

“And when I do that, it may well be on the same day that your own forces attack. And if that were to happen, I might cause some unfortunate chaos for them. Of course you could try to kill me now to avoid that, but given our sparring match, it is safe to say even if you won, you would be in no condition to attack yourself. Or, I could join you in your quest. I am not asking for your trust. I am asking for a modicum of intelligence from you to realize that we need each other to win.” King Ghidorah jerked his left head towards the Emperor’s burned arm and his right towards the still blazing remains of Yapool and the battered states of his comrades. “And I believe I have demonstrated my own power quite magnificently.”

The remaining kings looked to the Empera expectantly. Such an insult could not go ignored. Even Yapool’s blazing remains seemed to twitch a little, as if wanting to get closer to the place where an alliance was made or a king was slain. Empera stared on without saying a word for a moment, holding his arms behind his back.

“I still cannot trust you…"

"And I cannot trust you either. We have already established that." 

"You have proposed your use to me, but why then do I have use to you? You plan to be indispensable to me, but as I see it I am not so to your own goals. I wish to conquer and educate, not sit in the ashes and then laugh. If that is what you search for, Yapool is what you seek.”

Yapools remains seemed to bristle excitedly at that, causing Genoa to slowly back away.

King Ghidorah hissed, rolling his eyes and spitting out the next words as if they physically pained him. 

“I could scythe through many Ultras, enough to create a literal mountain of their corpses should I so desire. But their numbers have already grown far too swollen for me to successfully complete this endeavor by myself. I could be the greatest tragedy to their world, a story to be spoken of for millennia...but I do not want that. I want there to be NO stories, no survivors, not one speck of their accursed people left. Even if I did not find their philosophy insulting, I detest defeat. I have only lost once before, I have no desire to lose a second time. And for that, I do need your considerable forces. So yes, your army is indispensable to me too,” Empera’s mask did not show emotion, but the glint of amusement in his eyes showed his relish at forcing the dragon’s fealty.

“That is all I needed to hear,” Empera said, thrusting an arm out to the side and making his cape billow. Without a moment’s hesitation, Genoa, Faust, and Grozam knelt as Empera’s voice boomed with an official proclamation, “I accept you then as the fifth heavenly king! Heavenly King that-” 

“No need for such pomp and circumstance. Just King of Terror will do,” King Ghidorah countered, snickering at Empera’s offended glare. 

“Welcome to the Poison Alliance!” Empera welcomed him, making a grand gesture all the same.

“The words taste poisonous but they look fun,” tittered Yapool’s insufferable voice, drawing all eyes towards the new body that the depraved being had shunted its consciousness into. It might have been an Ultra at some point, but some kind of heavy, blinding gold mask had dug into the flesh around the eyes and face such that the scars even now pulsed a sickening red. Chains attached to the torturous looking mask circled around a blistered and burned torso and arms, clinking with every step and inflicting further burns wherever they touched skin. The right hand was mangled, turned into a skeletal set of claws which drummed to some song only Yapool could hear as he approached them in his new body, “We want more!”

Genoa shuddered as he noticed that while Yapool was speaking telepathically, he could vaguely hear the muffled screams of the body. Grozam and Faust merely looked away, knowing by experience it was easier than attempting to rationalize Yapool’s madness.

“Is there any way to make that worm be silent?” King Ghidorah asked.

“Not this one. This one must speak. Unfortunately,” Empera sighed. Yapool’s mask opened up just a little and a tongue mockingly stuck out while the body seemed to scream in unbearable agony, the movement pulling at the very fresh looking stitches at the tongue’s base. 

Empera raised his arm, and at his signal, the massive flagship of his fleet descended past his dark magic and hovered over the planet’s surface like a giant claw. It was so large that a small army of kaiju could and did reside comfortably within its huge bulk, fashioned by techno-sorcery to be a formidable war machine. The fact that it resembled the Emperor’s clutching claws grasping a planet was no coincidence, for it was the very embodiment of his absolute power to hold worlds in his palm. 

“Come, we will continue this discussion aboard the Malebrandes,” the Emperor stated, rising into the air followed by Faust and Yapool. Grozam and Genoa would have to wait for the tractor beam to take them into the ship.

“But of course, Empera,” King Ghidorah’s caustic tone was not mitigated in the least by the impressive ship as he flew upwards along with the Emperor away from the blasted hellscape of a planet their battle had left behind. 

\-----------------------------

The grizzled, brutal crew of the Malebrandes didn't pay much mind when the Emperor returned with his four generals. After all, these were their leaders and a familiar presence inside the ship. If not comfortable with them, the crew was at least accustomed to the generals and the Emperor. But the one that caught them off-guard was the three-headed, twin-tailed hydra that soon entered alongside them. Whispers and murmurs began to permeate the air as the golden demise’s presence became aware to more and more of the crew.

“Is that...Ghidorah!?” one of the soldiers whispered to another, a look of both horror and shock on his insectoid face. 

“By the Emperor, the legends are true,” another replied in response, the sound of fear clear in her voice.

“I didn’t think he was real, just another story told around the cosmos. And yet...here he is in the flesh,” another soldier chimed in. 

“Is he gonna kill us?” one said with fear in their stalk eyes. 

“I hope not,” A Deathre responded in kind, trying to use the body of Genoa as a shield between himself and the dragon’s gaze. 

“If he tries anything, the Emperor will stop him...right?” King Ghidorah relished in the fear & awe his mere presence gave off. He gave a hearty cackle, sending the lesser soldiers scattering from their path as they approached the Emperor’s throne room. The Emperor and the generals, however, did not react to the laughter beyond a few stray looks. The Emperor jerked his hand backwards, and the massive, black doors to his court were pulled open with a tiny expression of his telekinetic power.

“Watch your step,” the Emperor cautioned in a deadpan fashion as the kaijin walked through his throne room and passed a large hole in the floor. Genoa bristled at the ever present reminder of the humiliation he suffered in his first meeting with Empera. The guardian Bogars hissed hungrily as they saw the fresh meat that was King Ghidorah, but a wicked glare from the dragon put an end to their confidence. Chittering in basal language, they returned to their static posts at the corners of the throne room. A snap of Empera’s fingers and through the large hole in the floor a huge stone table was psychically moved until it rested at the throne room’s center. It had been hewn from the planet’s surface with nothing more than a wave of his hand, another trophy from another conquered world. With Empera at its head, it offered room enough for the Four Heavenly Kings and King Ghidorah to sit down in the remainder of space in theory. In practice, Genoa and Faust both distanced themselves from Yapool’s abominable form and ended up a little cramped together, but neither dared complain. Grozam also cut a large space around himself, his sub-zero body ensuring that even when he wasn’t fighting, staying near him for an extended period wasn’t a pleasant activity. King Ghidorah, naturally, took the opposite end of the table from the Emperor. 

“Are we going to have a tea party now?” Yapool sniggered as it saw the shifting of Faust and Genoa. 

“Every meter further from you is a party,” Faust said dryly.

“Those are big words coming from someone whose foolishness got you torn apart by our new attack dog,” Genoa more aggressively sniped back at Yapool, drawing a mocking “oooh” from Yapool.

“Bolder still coming from such a prideful weakling as you, Deathre,” King Ghidorah chimed in, a malicious giggle on his harsh features as he saw the impotent outrage in Genoa’s eye. Genoa began to rise to his feet, prompting a laugh from King Ghidorah. 

"You want to come at me?" Genoa snarled as solar plasma began crackling at the palm of his gigantic right claw, "Then let's go, asshole, right here, right now!"

"Yes, let us settle the matter!" Ghidorah mocked, flaring his wings to make himself appear more colossal as he towered over the smaller kaijin. Yapool put his head forward, salivating eagerly at the thought of another deathmatch and Faust preemptively raised a barrier to prevent his new robes from being splattered with any gore. Before either could move, tendrils of ice curled up every raised limb and the wind howled. 

“ENOUGH!” Grozam’s booming roar sounded like a glacier collapsing and was no less frigid, a blast of frost both figuratively and literally cooling all tempers present. Doing his best not to shiver, Genoa sat back down and cast his gaze downward. As the kings returned to a relative peace, Grozam slowly tilted his head towards the hithertofore silent Empera and nodded. 

“Thank you, Grozam. I understand your frustrations, my kings," Empera spoke, leering at the hydra across the table, Ghidorah's expression now stoic like a statue as he peered back. 

"It is not natural to be forced into such an alliance as this, but it IS necessary,” the Emperor assuaged with a wave of his hand. 

“The Land of Light lies within our grasp, and with the capture of this world and the power of the King of Terror at our side, nothing will be able to stop us from forming a beachhead for an invasion. Is that not correct, Genoa?”

“In theory,” Genoa offered in a way that made clear his lack of surety. The Emperor’s eyes narrowed.

“Explain yourself. Your calculations were presented to me with the utmost confidence that if this planet was conquered, it would become possible for Yapool’s dimensional rift to create a direct line between this world and the Ultra homeworld. What has changed?” Genoa waved his claw over the table, manifesting a huge log of mathematical calculations and battleplans in holographic form over the stone. 

“The fourth dimension doesn’t always work consistently and it resists all attempts to be understood or rationalized, but when I analyzed the distortion signature created by that… thing that Yapool tried to summon against Ghidorah, which he didn't bother to mention until now, I realized that the previous plans were far too optimistic” Genoa explained. Yapool laughed out loud with some kind of sickening pride, garnering an annoyed glance from all the others present. 

“With something like that being shunted over, we have to get closer still. Add King Ghidorah to the mix, who is comparable in size to Yapool's...thing, and that almost certainly makes it worse. My calculations were made with the thought that the largest living things we'd have to concern ourselves with would be some of the other choju and the Zettonians’ new pet. The mass of two jumbo giants like these two seems to make the travel exponentially more difficult rather than linearly more difficult as with smaller living beings.”

"Hey, we haven't finished the jumbo one yet!" said Yapool indignantly, casually filing his nails against his chains as if he had not been implicated as a threat to the Emperor’s plans. 

“Why did you not speak up about this, Yapool? In your glowing speeches on your ultimate choju, you never mentioned this problem with transporting it,” Empera asked Yapool with a deadly cold gaze. Yapool shrugged and kicked their feet up onto the table.

“You think that WE know anything about using our dimension for travel? It would suck all the fun out of it if we knew, random chance is the spice of death after all. The brainiac’s calculations are probably right though. The ultimate choju would be so glorious, so barbaric, it would tear us all asunder. Oh, wouldn’t that be so funny if just its presence in the warp killed us all? The delicious irony!” While Yapool burst into self-congratulatory titters, King Ghidorah raised an eyebrow in curiousity.

“Ultimate choju, you say? Is that what was emerging from the portal?” Yapool was only too pleased to oblige in a description.

“The ultimate in killing machines for massive mayhem and murder! We call it the U-killersaurus project, not just because it’s the ultimate but because this baby’s gonna kill Ultras like no tomorrow!"

Genoa gave him a look of disbelief, "Could you come up with a more infantile name?"

"Oh we've got far more infantile names, if they upset you. We've got plans for this one called Jumbo King, though parts of us think it looks stupid. Anyway, the Emperor got the great idea of using U-killersaurus like a battering ram to crack open the defenses for the Ultras’ precious little Star. Because there is nothing better than a choju for ripping through holy relics and temples,” Yapool boasted, pounding the table for emphasis. 

“Then your Emperor is a fool indeed,” King Ghidorah smirked. “Obtaining the Plasma Spark will do nothing for spreading darkness beyond showing its impotence as the light incinerates it.”

It was Empera’s turn to chuckle now, snapping his fingers once more. “Ordinarily, you would be correct. However, I am not bound by what is ordinary,” the Emperor boasted as his magic caused a huge suit of armor to manifest in the air above the table. The armor had a superficial similarity to the one Empera was wearing, but where that one was as sleek as a second skin, this one was thick enough to double the wearer’s dimensions. It was composed of bulky plates so dark that they seemed akin to the visual artifacts caused by staring into bright light, just sitting in space in all their foul glory. The helmet was the most impressive part of the bulky armor, bearing horns and a mask with a fearsome grimace with just the tiniest eye slits. The suit of armor floated towards King Ghidorah, spinning within the Emperor’s grip with such an attunement that it was immediately obvious who had forged and enchanted this armored darkness. 

“With this to protect me, I can rip the Plasma Spark, that false idol, out from their arrogant temple. When the brightest star shines no more, all the lesser ones too will-"

Ghidorah did not wait for the Emperor’s grandiose speech to finish before he simply bumped the armor with his snout, emitting a clang from the breastplate that cut off Empera’s last words. All the other kings gaped at the disrespect. None of them had even been allowed the privilege of seeing that armor until now, let alone touch it in so brusque a manner. And now it had just been banged upon with the air of a child smashing fine china just to see what would happen.

“To test the craftsmanship,” King Ghidorah drawled sardonically, challenging the Emperor with his eyes.

When the Emperor rose from his seat all of them were certain the alliance was about to come to a sudden, bloody end. King Ghidorah himself seemed to think so, a golden light beginning to glow from his scales as Empera walked over to the opposite side of the table with one arm raised. However, when it came down, it was merely patting the dragon’s back as though he was an old friend. Or, rather an old pet.

“Even kings and emperors must yield to knavery, so long as it’s funny,” the Emperor said as he continued to pat the dragon’s back, the similarities to stroking the back of an impudent dog now undeniable. The dark fingers ran down King Ghidorah’s scales over and over, dripping with a patronizing sense of dominion. King Ghidorah’s teeth gritted and he nodded very slowly as the farce of a conciliatory gesture continued, the light powering him for an attack slowly dimming as he refused to rise to the bait. “But I must say, your skills as a comedian leave much to be desired."

"Yes, now may we move on to the point of this meeting?" Faust interjected, unwilling to risk the alliance so quickly. Empera’s fist clenched as it left Ghidorah’s back and the armor above the table dissipated away while he walked back to his seat, “I believe we were on the subject of Genoa improving the jump coordinates to account for our new ally and the...what did Yapool call it? Ah, U-killersaurus.”

“It is a simple matter, and really does not require any change to our current strategy” Genoa affirmed, swiping through various holograms and data displays with computer-like efficiency. 

“Perhaps you should say what that strategy is to elucidate to our new ally,” Faust suggested. Genoa hesitated but a moment before a nod from the Emperor got him talking again.

“With the help of many petty warlords, the Magmanians, the Black Directive, the Guar, etc., we have stretched Ultras across the frontiers of their influence. They are easy to bait out further and further from the homeworld, overextending themselves foolishly,” Genoa explained, scrolling through several recorded feeds of various battles and invasions upon the borders of Ultra territory. 

“Don’t forget our choju,” Yapool cut in. 

“Yes, them too,” Genoa added quickly, rolling his eye. “With so many forces off-world, it is the perfect time for a concentrated force and fleet to strike at their homeworld, striking the heart and head of this snake all at once.”

“Oooh, oooh, can we say how we learned about exactly where to put our troops and where those little Ultra hidey-holes were?” Yapool asked, bouncing with sudden excitement. 

“Yes, of course…” Genoa sighed. With a baleful giggle, Yapool’s clawed hand reached up to the host body’s masked face and delicately plucked the heavy structure off. Ultra eye lenses came in many colors, from light yellow to azure and green. They were never meant to come in blood-soaked red though, a maddening swirl of scars covering the eyes until all that they could see was the horrors of Yapool’s dimension branded across their vision forever. Open wounds weeping light split the metallic skin right down to the skull in places, providing attachment points for the mask. It now became clear why Yapool had given the Ultra a tongue as it began to sob and babble, its telepathic thoughts no longer private.

“T-t-the king...wait, that’s me...no, no, bad, not me, there’s no me, there’s...there’s just Noa, oh Noa, help, help please…!” it choked out, curling into a ball on the table as it shook constantly.

“N-no, there’s others to help, after all, the king can’t do everything himself, can he? No, no, no, he cannot. No, I cannot do anything. No, not I! Noa, Noa leaves it to the other Ultras, the ones like Cermin. All loyal knights, all of them, the king should never move, that’s the knights’ job. Has to be perfect, has to never move, ever, just be shining there, all perfect. Yes, yes, exactly, and that’s why he has them go to Outpost 66 on the frontier, and, and, and…”

“And we think that’s enough of our show. Please tip if you want to see more of the Miraculous Dancing Ultra!” Yapool’s voice echoed, as it forced the Ultra to bring its flayed hand back up to accept the mask once more. 

“No!” the Ultra shrieked, trying to fight its tortured movements to no avail. “The king, the king has to see, they must see, Noa must se-!” Then the mask dug into his face with a sickening squelching noise and its noises trailed off to pitiful whimpers. There was no being in this universe that could possibly imagine what he was experiencing behind that mask.

“You are disgusting. I shall put that wretch out of his misery when we are finished with this invasion,” Faust snarled, having looked away throughout the display. Yapool’s haughty laughter showed little offense.

“How typical. Fine using the intel but not fine with the methods used to get it. That’s just arrogant, Faust, you want all the fruits of a good bit of torture without ever getting your hands dirty. Maybe you should try it yourself sometime, drop those sour grapes of yours.” 

Faust growled, rising from his seat before a hand firmly grasped his shoulder to stop him. Faust whipped his head around to see who touched him before he settled his gaze on Genoa.

"Don't," the Deathre general spoke quietly as his fiery gaze met the steely eyes of the Mefilasian, the staredown lasting for a brief but intense moment. Ultimately, Faust succumbed to reason as he moved to sit back down and tried to reaffirm his pride in his profession. Genoa lifted his hand away from Faust's shoulder as the pair sat down in silence, both Kings giving Yapool a displeased look while Yapool reveled in their distaste. 

“So...we...know...deployments...from...listening...to...him” Grozam clarified, quite bored now with Yapool’s torturous displays and Faust’s appeals to honor all the same. 

“A charming method," King Ghidorah commented.

“To know your enemy is to beat them, and what better way to know them than to have their most inner thoughts thrust forward? Besides, I am sure as an Ultra he would want it all brought to light anyway,” the Emperor said, having been more focused on Genoa’s maps and battle plans than on Yapool’s macabre tricks. He pointed out the planet mentioned by the tortured Ultra, Outpost 66, “Other intelligence reports Cermin will be there. The change in plan may work to our advantage then, removing such a powerful piece as he will make the invasion itself easier.”

“It...would...allow...a...warp...directly...over...the...Plasma...Spark” Grozam noted, gesturing to notes comparing the two planets’ orbital paths. 

“Well-spotted, Grozam. Well, Ghidorah, it seems you are an omen of good fortune for our forces then after all,” Empera joked.

“Only in so far as being ill fortune to the Ultras,” Ghidorah said with faux modesty. “But once you get there, then what is your plan? Simply charge ahead with a swarm of Bogars and your kings? I thought you wanted to extinguish them, not just cause a tragedy.”

“There’s more than Bogars,” Faust huffed, scrolling through video feeds from within the ship itself. “Imperializers, all trained with combat routines from myself, will also take part in the assault,” Faust informed, demonstrating the bulky, cannon-armed robots marching in lockstep discipline. “Yapool’s lesser choju too will join through the portal once U-killersaurus is able to be disgorged and the Garoga fleet along with their Terror-Beasts. We have also received word of the Zettonians sending in their ultimate weapon and the Pittians sending a whole tank of Eleking spawn to name but a few of the pledges of allegiance from some of the warhawks in the Star Cluster Council. Even if only a few commit, it will be a host of great size. Enough to open the metaphorical door,” Faust zoomed in to a closer view of the Plasma Spark Tower, acknowledging its vast defenses with a variety of red warning symbols all over it. “It’s herein that a more careful strategy is needed.”

“One which I, of course, devised” Genoa put in, tapping his skeletal claw against the dark purple finish of the table impatiently. “Of course, only with the Emperor’s guidance,” he added quickly and half-heartedly, proceeding at a grunt from Empera, “With the swiftness of the assault, they’ll not be able to bring up the greater defenses so they will be left with only point defenses. Grozam’s blizzard shall keep reinforcements away, U-killersaurus will batter its way into the Plasma Spark Tower, I will of course be watching over all of these events to insure smooth progress and providing long range support against the point defenses, and Faust will be off doing whatever he likes doing.”

“Harassment and infiltration, hopefully bypassing the need for U-killersaurus to bash its way into the tower by brute force” the Mefilasian corrected. 

“I’m aware,” Genoa rumbled. “The Emperor will then descend and take the Plasma Spark, and victory is ours,” he finished with a sweeping, theatrical lift of his arms as if he was presenting some divine revelation.

“Ah, so your Emperor is last into the battle, is he?” King Ghidorah sneered. 

“No, I will simply be crushing their strongest warriors in the palm of my hand for all to see before I take the Plasma Spark,” Empera corrected, leaning forward onto the table. “Do not worry for yourself, you have your own role to play too, King Ghidorah,” Empera’s fingers threaded together and in spite of his mask his grin was plain for all to see. “You obey my orders and act like a blunt force tool exactly where and when I tell you. For instance, at this moment, you will be a hammer against Outpost 66 the moment Malebrandes touches down on its surface.” The Emperor rose, satisfied with his rebuke having drawn a few sputtering hisses from the offended hydra, “We move within the hour. Outpost 66 will be ours, and then the Land of Light shall fall.”


	6. Nadir

Having sent the kids to bed, Belial flew away from the Zone Family residence and up towards the shining palace where the King made his home. As he flew, more than a few Ultras called out his name and cheered for him, recognizing the shark-finned Ultra’s striking silhouette for his combat achievements. Their words pushed Belial upwards, bolstering him like solar winds. It lessened the sting of coming back to the giver of this mission like a whipped hound, but only ever so slightly. Belial shook his head. 'Don’t let that bring you down.' Taking care of the kids had been fun, there was no reason to be upset over it, Belial knew with the logical part of his mind. The same part of his mind also knew that it had been done to browbeat him and keep him from fighting evil with his team where he was needed, unlike his comrades. The King had a habit of doing that to him. 

Belial cracked his neck as he made his landing, letting out a slight hiss. He ran his hands down his fin, groaning a little to himself. Dealing with superiors who were so obviously treacherous was always a headache, but it had to be done. It had to be done for the sake of his comrades, those not so easily corrupted. Belial quickly entered into the palace’s central atrium. The very moment he opened the gates, he was nearly decapitated by a crescent blade of energy flying past his cheek. Belial hit the deck quickly, processing his shock as he prepared his own energy blast to fire right back at whoever was there. An assassin? Rather than feeling fear, the thought thrilled him. Let him greet Zone Fighter and King with the head of an assassin on a pike! Zone Fighter would be thrilled at that.

“Die, assassin scum!” Belial roared, venting excited energy as he rose to his feet with arms crossed and energy sparking across them. 

“Oh, by the Light, are you alright?” Belial’s eyes stopped seeing visions of a victory over an assassin reflecting from his glowing hands and focused instead on the target in front of him. A blue Ultra with twin tails stood mortified, energy still streaming from her hands which had no doubt fired the crescent blast. An Ultra whose name he knew. 

“Marie? Oh.” Belial had no words for the crushing weight of embarrassment that fell down upon him like a building. It would almost have been better if the blast had decapitated him now. 

“Sorry, I was just training my blasts with Zone Fighter. You should really watch your head,” Marie said, the snarky edge returning to her voice once she realized she had not hurt him physically. 

“Well, you should watch your blasts!” Belial shot back. Marie flipped her fins and floated over towards him, fist clenched. Belial’s own did the same, and he raised it towards Marie. Three bumps of their fists later followed by a waggle of their fingers and the pair of Ultras let out a friendly chuckle, "Nice blast.”

“Nice trash talk. I’m sure the ‘assassin scum’ will be terrified next time,” Marie quipped, relishing Belial’s awkward shuffle in place. 

“Belial,” Zone Fighter’s imposing voice rang out, full of fondness for his student as he gestured for Belial to join his side at the edge of the atrium. Belial was ready to rush over but for the fact that he saw the King’s critical gaze looking across the chamber, as always searching for mistakes. Belial was not keen on showing him any such mistakes, and so floated over to the pair of Ultra leaders in a slow, deliberate hover. 

“Zone Fighter, King,” he greeted, mediating the warmth in his greeting to Zone Fighter. Not due to any lack of enthusiasm towards him, but to make the antipathy for King stand out less, "I babysat the kids, and I have reflected and meditated a lot while doing it.”

“Nevermind that, how were they?” Zone Fighter asked, firing off a few smaller homing missiles from his bracelet for Marie to dodge and blast as he did so. Belial relaxed a little when he heard the abruptness of the request. Zone Fighter had never been one who took to ceremony very often, and his reassurance was easily welcome for the fiery Ultra.

“The refugees?” Belial asked.

“Them and the rest, I want to know all about your day.” Belial stood a few meters straighter at that, the task he had found menial taking on a far more treasured role now. It may have just been babysitting, but Zone Fighter wanting to hear all about it made it seem, at least for the moment, just as grand as any monster slaying as Belial basked in his master’s intrigue.

“Leo has recovered pretty well from his planet’s destruction, but Astra seems a little more bothered by it. I’m sure once he gets strong enough to avenge his family, he’ll feel better about it,” Belial replied.

“Will it now?” the King asked, and Belial’s formerly loose neck felt stiff as a board from hearing that disappointed tone. How could the King find fault in that? 

“I taught him the Specium Ray and I think he has good potential to be an Ultra Warrior.” Belial’s inner light was still running hot from the King’s comment and he prodded the issue a little more. "I request permission to take on his training, if that would be alright, Master? I think we have a lot in common and I sense a good potential in the boy,” Belial addressed Zone Fighter, keeping a careful eye on King’s reaction, "And Ken or Marie could train his brother."

“It might be possible in the future, Belial,” Zone Fighter responded, tearing Belial’s eyes from King by the sheer potential in that statement, "But it might be better to wait for him to grow a little bit and find peace after the destruction of L77. It takes an experienced teacher to handle a student with a volatile mind and guide them down the right road. He would not be ideal for your first apprentice, at least not right now.” Belial dipped his head in acknowledgement, only the slightest bit disappointed by the denial. Astra would still be a good apprentice shortly enough once he had calmed down a little, and Belial was certain Zone Fighter saw the wisdom in putting them together. He could wait a few hundred years.

"Taking responsibility for a student is a noble decision, once you've taken some time to mature yourself. I believe you have it within you to help the boy grow," King added.

There he was with the irresponsibility stuff again. Belial was plenty responsible! Just ask all those planets he'd helped save by punching monsters in the face.

"And I'm sure Ken and Marie could both be excellent mentors for young Leo, once they are fully trained themselves," Zone Fighter added, "Speaking of which, perhaps go spar with Marie a bit? She nearly started a match with you when you got here as it is."

Belial nodded. Now sparring was something he could get behind, "Yes, Master," he said, bowing to Zone and avoiding glaring at King as he turned to go do exactly that. The instant he did so, he was nearly decapitated by yet another energy blast from Marie.

“Sorry, just wanted to get your attention,” Marie teased, waving her smoking finger around like it was a gun. "So, you’re looking for a student now? Big Bad Belial’s settling down. But that apprentice is gonna be mine first.”

“Not by a long shot, Marie!” Belial growled, competitive fire rising within him and lunging forward at high speed to try to grab the blue Ultra. His fingers grasped the metal of Marie’s face but before he could do anything with his grip, a spark of white plasma from Marie’s hands scored down his chest and forced him to let go. The blue Ultra nimbly kicked off of Belial, gaining distance by taking to the air. 

“Someone’s fired up,” Marie commented, fanning out her fingers and forming a pointed star of energy between each of them. With a flick of her wrist, the energy stars shot forward like a flurry of shuriken towards Belial. Belial found himself too busy dodging to shoot back another snark at Marie, leaping this way and that as he dodged the energy assault. He let red energy build up on his hands and the moment Marie cocked her hand back to reload, he shot back with his own energy blade, a single red crescent. Marie quickly shifted from charging up an energy blast to projecting a barrier from both of her hands, deflecting the red slash away from herself. 

In the moment it took for her to do so, Belial coiled up his legs and sprung up above Marie’s head and her barrier. Marie’s eyes shot straight up into Belial’s mirth filled ones, knowing what was coming but unable to stop Belial’s leg from swinging down in a heavy ax kick to the top of her head. She hit the ground with a resounding crash, sending up a cloud of dust between herself and Belial. Belial held up his guard for a moment, but the silence after the crash dragged on a little long. Belial’s spine chilled to sub-zero temperatures. Could he have...no, no, he couldn’t have...but what if...

“Yo, Marie, you okay?”

Belial’s slightly tremulous voice was answered by a huge rainbow blast cutting right through the smoke and hitting him right in the face. Belial’s howl of shock was drowned out as the beam propelled him into the wall of the atrium, followed by a proud cackle.

“Oh by the Light, you actually fell for it. Oh...haha! Oh stars and colors, you’re killing me here, haha!” Marie laughed, her metallic head a little dented but otherwise not particularly wounded by Belial’s kick. 

Belial shook his head from within the wall, clearing it of the starbursts circling his vision. For a moment, he mistook that heady laugh as being the King’s. His fists clenched tight, his fingers digging deep into his palms. Or perhaps some other bystander, just as ignorant. All of them were ignorant, all of them judged his every action under a microscope without ever seeing why he was right and they were wrong. So when Belial shot out from the hole his landing had made in the wall, he was already sparking all over with red energy, looking around from side to side swiftly. He could almost swear he felt their eyes upon him, scourging him with their harsh gazes.

“Over here!” Marie shouted at him, making a come-at-me gesture towards her friend. And just like that, the sting on his skin was gone. This was Marie, not any other. Now there was an Ultra he could trust. She, Ken, Zone Fighter; they were the only ones who understood.

“That was a dirty trick” Belial laughed, dusting his shoulders off and shaking the tension out of them, "I’ll have to pay you back, Dark Ultra.”

"You're welcome to try," Marie snickered, outstretching her fingers on both hands to make them look like a pair of guns. Belial sprang off the wall at the exact same moment that Marie fired a pair of thin energy beams from her fingers. One went wide, but the other struck against his head with a small explosion. Belial grunted, raising up his forearm to block the rest of the beam and not stopping his momentum whatsoever. His bold charge reached Marie faster than she had expected and he took full advantage, striking her in the chin with a flying knee strike which drove her toward the ground. Belial threw another kick while she was staggered, but even a staggered Marie was able to parry it with a swift double-handed block. She returned the kick in kind, white plasma energy trailing off of her foot as it crashed against Belial’s forearm, staggering him through his block.

Though Marie had overextended her leg with the attack, the energy shock running through it made it hit punishingly hard. Belial endured it with a grunt, letting the energy crackle off of his skin before grasping Marie by the leg with his free hand and swinging the smaller blue Ultra against the ground with all of the red-powered strength he had. Marie struck the floor so hard she bounced right off of it, and if it had been anyone else, the fight would have ended right there. Anyone who lost right then and there though was not worth Belial’s time, and Marie most definitely was.

The blue Ultra’s limp figure suddenly glowed with a pink light, and her strength was revitalized, letting her land gracefully in a tripod position after bouncing. She rose to an upright pose, shaking her “hair” before swiftly shooting another barrage of energy shurikens towards Belial, preventing him from pressing his advantage. 

“You’ve gotten better at healing,” Belial muttered, impressed at Marie's progress in between frantic dodges of the shuriken with swift twists of his lean form. 

“And you’ve gotten better at deflecting energy,” Marie praised genuinely, finding herself hard pressed to maintain the barrage of shurikens fending off the red Ultra. If Belial had had a heart, it would have swollen exponentially at her praise. As it was, his color timer felt so invigorated that the Plasma Spark could not possibly compare. With more energy than he knew what to do with, Belial stopped dodging Marie’s shuriken and charged through them. They nicked him even through his beam resistant hide, but he felt nothing of it through the high of the cloud he was riding on. Marie flew upwards to avoid being grappled yet again, and Belial shot after her, the pair clashing in the upper regions of the atrium repeatedly.

\---------------------------------------------

“That. That is exactly what worries me, Zone,” King sighed, rubbing the bridge of where his nose would be if he had had one. Old habits die hard, and the King knew that better than anyone. Of the few others who knew, only Zone Fighter yet remained alive. 

“What do you mean, Noa?” Zone asked, using the King’s original name with soft concern, confident that it would not be heard by the brawling pair of students up above them, "His intuition is good. He knew that the shuriken could not hurt him and he chose to try to finish it quickly.”

“Do you think he knew that?” Noa countered, "I saw an impulsive act in that charge, not a well-thought plan.” As if to punctuate his statement, one of Belial’s wild grapples completely missed and saw him be driven against a wall from behind by Marie twisting his arm behind him. The red Ultra pushed off with his free arm, sending them flying towards the other side of the atrium and freeing himself by smashing both his back and Marie into the other wall.

“You have a point, Noa. He is sometimes unrefined, but that’s exactly why I want to take him on more combat missions. He needs experience,” Zone Fighter said, and already he could hear Noa groaning as the argument they had all too often reared its head once more.

“Who fights more than Belial? No, he needs less of it, not more,” Noa replied, his tone initially harsh before he modulated it into calm once more. Zone Fighter turned his head away, and usually the argument would be left there. It was not a dispute which dignified either’s lofty station, nor their millennia of camaraderie. But this time, Noa felt compelled to continue, "I have seen where Belial lives, Zone. Where are his embarrassing interests that everyone tries to hide? His happy memories with family and friends? Where is any sign of a social life? Zone, he has more monster heads on his wall than the Monster Museum. At this rate, war will be all that boy lives for.”

“Noa, we are at war. And we have been at it before,” Zone muttered, "I remember the days before Yapool was brought to heel well enough. And we turned out fine, didn’t we?” An almost wistful tone colored the Meteor hero’s words. 

“You still had your wife, your children. I had Zagi...I had you,” Noa replied quietly, "Belial does not.”

“He has Ken and Marie,” Zone half-laughed, a little confused as he turned back to his old friend. 

“They have him, but he does not have them. And he will never believe that he does,” Noa said, shaking his head. Zone Fighter did not reply for a moment, crossing his arms and tapping his fingers against his biceps. Noa could tell well enough whenever Zone Fighter did that, he was thinking hard of what to do next.

“I have faith in my student, Noa. I know he is rough around the edges, but I ask you to have faith that my training will straighten him out. Just because he is a little reckless is not the end of the world. I seem to recall a certain winged Ultra being quite the berserker with his hammer against the choju, back in the day.” Zone’s elbow bumped the king’s side, and Noa let out a small chuckle. The tension slowly faded from the air between them, as Noa nodded his head in acknowledgement.

“Alright, you have me there, Zone. I may worry too much,” Noa admitted, letting the issue go for another day. It was never worth it to argue for so long on a subject that was not his to control, especially with a friend as loyal as Zone was.

“I do have an idea which might be helpful though,” Zone added, "I could call in his parents’ exploratory trips. Honestly, the frontiers are too dangerous for that kind of thing right now anyway. Maybe having them back home would do him some good.”

“Mmm. Maybe” Noa said, sounding satisfied with the compromise. Just then, a pair of tangled up figures crashed down to the ground in front of the pair of venerable Ultras. Belial had Marie’s back and had wrapped a scorched arm around her neck while Marie had a razor of energy buzzing right above Belial’s head.

“YIELD!” they both shouted at each other at the same time. With an approving laugh Zone Fighter clapped at their performance.

“I’d say that about calls it even! Well done, Belial, Marie,” Zone Fighter commended. The pair of apprentices stole one last look at the other, as if not wanting to disentangle just yet, before the pair of them rolled away from each other and stood at attention before their master. Both were battered here and there, but glowing with pride, "I was going to call in Ken, but you guys seem a little too beaten up to handle him right now.”

“I could do this all day,” Belial huffed, trying not to show the quivering of his knees.

“Tch, I wouldn’t finish for a week,” Marie threw in, despite the pink light she used to heal herself being more of a sputtering candle by this point.

“I know, but consider it a reward for a well done match that you get to go early,” Zone Fighter said with a nod of his head. Marie gave an excited little skip, and though Belial was reticent at first, he seemed to join in with the pleased atmosphere once he saw Marie doing it. Noa too nodded his head in approval. "Oh, and Belial, by the way. We were able to recover your staff after you battled Megalos. Head on over to the usual place and it should be right there. Get yourselves a recharge while you’re there too, both of you could use it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir!” came a pair of enthusiastic cries as the young Ultras quickly raced off towards Zone Fighter and his students’ personal armory.

\-------------------

“Damned bucket of bolts scratched the finish on it,” Belial muttered as he recovered his staff. It had been his habit to scratch a tally into it for every confirmed kill, but the beating it had taken from Megalos had ruined that little habit of record keeping. 

“You’re more obsessed with your pole than just surviving that awful robot,” Marie chuckled, spraying metallic healing gel over the dents covering her body. Belial snorted, giving up on trying to discern the tallies and just resting the staff on his sore back.

“That’s not the only thing I’m obsessed with…” Belial almost said in return. However, a note of melancholy entering his mind interrupted him from doing so as he felt that the balance on his weapon had changed. The middle of the staff had taken the brunt of the damage from Megalos, and so the ends were now relatively heavier than before. That damned monster continued to humiliate him, even in death. It would be the height of failure to be spending a lick of time not training to make up for it if he wanted to catch up with Ken & Mari.

“Ken’s parents were pretty thrilled to hear about the whole event, and I hear that Ken’s father might even base one of his novels on the whole story. Wouldn’t that be cool? Our squad would be famous!” Marie chirped, stepping away from the medical supplies cabinet. She didn’t treat Belial; Belial appreciated that she knew better than to waste things like that on him. It’s not as if he needed to be babied like that, "I know you’ve already got your little fanbase with the outreach you do, but this could really be hitting it big here.”

“Anything for my fans,” Belial said tensely, popping his neck. Anything, except for the facts of how that battle had gone. Marie and Ken might get a following if Ken’s father wrote a novel on it; Belial on the other hand was rather certain he’d see the opposite effect, "I’m sure it’ll be very accurate, if Ken’s old man is writing it.”

“You could sound a little more excited,” Marie huffed, and Belial forced out a laugh. If there was one thing he knew, it was the value of laughter as an armor to protect embarrassment.

“It’s not my fault that my default voice is smoky soothing and not pep-sugar,” Belial shrugged it off a bit more brusquely than he had meant to, giving a few practice thrusts with his staff. The weight was off, but he would manage. Marie’s gaze was fixed on him a moment and he looked back at her, a stirring of panic at her reaction making him freeze. Marie began to say something, and Belial knew he had to act fast. 

“Belial, are you ok-”

“Anyway!” Belial’s staff smacked the ground, cutting her off, "Do you know what would really make us great heroes though, Marie? If we could take the fight to those pencil-necked pencil pushers of red tape from the Star Cluster Council. Yeah, more like Cluster-Fuck Council with the way they act.”

“...Heh, you got that right, Belial,” Marie admitted as she took her gaze off of him and began to leave the armory, "The borders just get uglier and uglier every day. The Baltans and the Adacics just went at each other’s throats a few days ago, that’s why so many Baltans are heading here. You know, the Council had tried to make them live on the same planet to make peace between them; it took a whole of five days before Baltan blood suddenly became a delicacy on the Adacic black market.” Belial had been unaware of that, but it only helped prove his point.

“If they’re supposed to be keeping the peace, they do a horrible job about it,” Belial grunted, following her out of the armory and still giving his staff a few twirls. Imagining the wrinkly, wizened little council speaker and his nasally voice was proving to be great motivation for getting back in the game, "It’s disgusting how the aliens outside of our zone of influence are forced to live under such weak, anemic leaders.”

“Hehe, anemic, good one."

Belial took a second to register what was funny, and did his best to laugh as if it'd been intentional, "Well, I guess that's not fair. The other half are bloodsucking politicians."

"What can we do? They elected them,” Marie shrugged after the two shared a laugh. She paused and then in a conspiratorial whisper added, “Supposedly, anyway. I doubt they care about morality more than power.”

“Here’s a thought. What if we just, and hear me out on this, don’t care about them?” Belial said in a tone dripping with venom, "Like you said, they don’t care about us. Why should we care about their finger and tentacle wagging when lives are at stake?” 

“It’s just the law,” Marie offered half-heartedly, scratching the back of her head.

“Not much good and seldom fair,” Belial replied back smartly.

“If nothing else it keeps the invasions down to have them on our side. The Zettonians haven’t invaded anyone in a few generations.”

“What an accomplishment when each generation barely lives ten years before its ready to croak. Besides, you know how sneaky they are. Never trust someone without a face."

“Look, you’re preaching to the choir here, Belial,” Marie admitted, throwing up her hands, "I didn’t like that we got to sit there with our thumbs up our rears while Judah was leveling a city and the Pittians had to get confirmation that we were really Ultras five times in a row. And even then only calling us after Judah and his siblings killed a few of their Elekings. Poor things never stood a chance.” 

“Exactly!” Belial yelled, recalling the incident with righteous indignation.

"And I didn’t like it when the Scruda tried to stab me with a needle while I was sleeping to get copies of my cells without asking either,” Marie half-laughed, shaking her head at the incident, "And I swear some of the Dadas want to shrink me and keep me as an action figure." 

“The Cluster-Fuck Council is a joke. And not a funny one either, more the kind that your sister tells at parties that make you want to die inside,” Belial reaffirmed, elbowing Marie in the ribs.

“Har har. But seriously, what exactly can we do about it?” Marie asked, her interest piqued. 

“Like I said before, just not care about them. Raid when we see tyrants pop up in their jurisdiction and flip their ships off if they try to stop us,” Belial said with the utmost seriousness, "Think about it. We could go off, just a small squad of three, and take out the warlords left in Judah’s wake.” There were some pristine planets out there that needed to be protected, Belial knew. Enjoying a victory with his friends there would be sweet, doubly so if he had Marie’s hand to hold in the aftermath. They could really have a fun time there, Belial thought.

“But they’d definitely start setting their monsters on us,” Marie countered, sounding excited nonetheless.

“And we’re far too fast in taking out the trash for them to interfere. Besides, the people will call us hero-”

“Two minutes, fifty seven seconds,” a regal voice boomed right in front of Belial. Belial stopped short instantly, realizing that he and Marie had long-left the armory and that their conversation had no doubt been overheard by the Ultra King. The very owner of the voice who had just given that timing thus stood before him with arms crossed, glancing down at him with utter judgement in those ruby orbs. 

“What’s that mean, King?” Belial dared to ask, knowing he was playing right into King’s hands by asking it. No doubt it would lead to some pointlessly extended metaphor, all for the King to tout his smug superiority over him. Again.

“That is about how long it would take for some Ultras like yourselves to defeat any tyrant or rampaging monsters on a Star Cluster Council world. It is also, incidentally, the amount of time that the Council has calculated it would take for a rogue Ultra to conquer a planet with decapitation strikes,” King responded, nodding his head as if the weight of his words forced him to. 

“What’s that got to do with anything?” Marie asked a little more tentatively. 

"Most of the Star Cluster Council do have their own monsters or mecha, officially for defense only. However, most of those are no match for an experienced Ultra. The number of them that could give any of you trouble can be counted on one hand," Monsters, Belial mentally noted, were often used to invade other civilizations under the guise of 'rogue elements' rather than defend their own people as claimed. So much the better then that they were usually weak, "The Council doesn't have many viable defenses if one of us chose to attack one of their worlds,” King finished, and his stare seemed to pierce into Belial’s soul. Belial instantly felt hot at the unspoken accusation, clenching his fists.

“We’d never invade a peaceful planet! But if we have such power, we also have a responsibility to use it to defend those who have no power to protect themselves," Belial erupted hotly.

“Can you not understand their perspective? They never know when any of us might decide to “take the responsibility” of defending a planet by aggression,” King said, and the calm tones of his voice only seemed to mock Belial further. 

“But that’s besides the point, because we wouldn’t do that!”

"You know that. I know that. Zone Fighter knows that and has made that very argument to them many times. But they don't know that. They don't know us. That is why in recent times we have had more tourists here; to try and show them,” Belial bristled at the mention of tourists; spies in disguise, more like it, "However, until they believe it, they will continue to be afraid," King turned to Marie, nodding his head, "When the Scruda attempting to steal your cells was discovered and spared, did you know why they shut the entire project down? The thief himself argued that if he had been shown such mercy then there was no need for such shadow tactics. That is to say, the fact that the thief was not incinerated made them far more inclined towards working with us as equal partners rather than as rebels.”

“I didn’t think about it like that...” Marie admitted. Belial could scarce believe the kind of manipulative power the King’s voice held. He was making Marie change her views in an instant! 

“Even if we are to believe that these aliens are so pure, then isn’t that all the better reason for us to at least be allowed to patrol their territory freely? The whole damn system is broken way beyond repair; only power can fix it,” Belial said, straining to keep from yelling until it sunk into King’s stubborn skull, "These aliens have to see a real hero, a power that is based in justice and not backroom deals and evil. I just want to help them.” 

"And I understand that your intentions are just, but what an Ultra may believe to be just is not necessarily what will benefit the people they want to protect. The more we work to intervene in every situation, the more the people will come to rely on us, thereby making them subservient to the power of Ultras. With that much authority over the populace, an Ultra will inevitably make a rash decision on what they believe is right without understanding the situation. Ultimately, this would be doing more harm than good, and those people would have nothing to do but bow to that Ultra's authority. We would be no better than dictators."

"Then what should we do?" Marie piped in, taking advantage of Belial’s silence. Belial was far too busy smoldering like the core of a dying star at the implications in King’s words. Words which insulted him and him alone. 

"If you want to show them a real hero, then inspire them. Help them enough to make them able to help themselves," King explained, "Encourage them to fight with us. Some have already done so, having their mecha and robots fight alongside our Ultras to defend their planets as courageously as we do. It is just as we do with the Windams and other such monsters to support, aid, and be our companions. The Xiliens are planning to modify some of their mining robots for that exact purpose. They brought one with them for advice."

“You can’t possibly expect that thing to keep up with us,” Belial sputtered, the very thought of having to work alongside such a primitive race’s wind-up toy bringing up a surge of indignity. Still more horrifying was the thought of such an easily corruptible race making that robot as strong as an Ultra, "And we can’t trust them to stay on the good side without a strong hand of guidance.”

“Why not? We are not gods, Belial. Powerful though we may be, it does not give us license to judge and be responsible for every last ill, or force others down paths against their will,” King replied, shaking his head with a conversation ending weight. He tilted his head to one side, and with a little humor in his voice continued, "I understand your concerns with the ‘Cluster-Fuck Council’...”

Belial sizzled at the mockery, as if an earthquake had happened below his feet and plunged him down to the planet’s molten core. Every single time he spoke with the King, this happened. Every single time the King so much as LOOKED at him, this happened. As constant as the Plasma Spark’s powerful glow or the iniquity of the Star Cluster Council, King’s judgement would always press down on his back with the weight of a mountain.

“Zone Fighter and I have our own concerns as well...But we must work with imperfect organizations, if we are to extend a hand of friendship and peace throughout the universe,” the King said with a sense of finality.

It was all Belial could do to just turn his head away from King. He would not be used as a prop for King’s preaching anymore, especially not with Zone Fighter and Marie watching. Let his Majesty find some other puppet to play with; Belial had been made to endure this old man’s scorn too long.  
\----------------------------------------------------

Belial grumbled to himself as he began trudging his way home, passing by a few of his fellow Ultra. Some gave a partial wave to him, to which he responded in kind with a nod. A few even cheered his name, and for these he mustered a brief laugh. He could always count on his fans to recognize him, if nothing else. Their cheers and compliments rolled over him and for a moment, they were like wings. But all too soon, the cold winds of reality ripped the wings from his back, and he looked upon the mass of faces without recognizing a single one. If he wanted that kind of empty admiration, a Windam would suffice. No, a Windam would actually be better, Belial realized as he heard and saw some of the crowd turn away and whisper. At least a Windam did not hide their mockery behind cheers. Belial resisted the urge to swing about his head wildly and pinpoint the source of those whispers. It would only be to the victory of those naysayers if he did. Though, Belial noted bitterly, they won anyway, as their words stabbed into his back while he walked. Their very scorn was proof of the fact that he was still not good enough. 

He marched onwards and passed the crowd, leaving their vapid noises behind him.. More meaningful than all that wasted noise was real proof of his accomplishments, such as the collection of trophies found within his own home. Those trophies were the best salve to when he felt wounds as deep as these. The blades of some brute choju flanked the doorway of his trophy room, setting the mood immediately. The memory of slaying such a beast always brought a certain high to Belial, only to be reinforced as the room continued. Really, it was more of a great hall, teeming with monster skeletons and pelts. Alien ships were nailed to the wall here and there too, lovingly placed to mimic the circumstances of their defeat. Belial always strove for accuracy in his mounts if he had an intact corpse or ship; he needed to remember the moment perfectly. The supernova of pride and lightness of spirit whenever he completed a mission, and saw Zone Fighter’s proud gaze looking upon him. Best of all, Marie and Ken clapping him on the back and cheering their shared victory. And there was a good open space in the tropy room where it joined his bedroom. Megalos’s molten carcass would fit there just fine. It would serve as a permanent reminder of that day. But with that last thought, Belial struggled to find any solace in the idea of mounting it. There had not been any pride in Zone Fighter’s eyes that day. There had been no cheers from Marie or Ken that day. 

No, if he was going to mount that robot, it’d be somewhere outside. It could herald the silence & solitude of Belial’s home, same as it ever was when his parents were out exploring. For a moment, Belial tried to imagine their reaction to seeing that new trophy on the doorstep. Belial knew this line of thought only led down to an icy cold well of disappointment, but he tumbled face first into it anyway, unable to stop his freefall. Down he went into the icy depths, as he tried to remember the last time he had heard a noise that wasn’t himself in his house in order to build that fuzzy, imaginary picture. None came to mind with any degree of vividness, of course. Oh, there were moments here and there, brief flashes of his mother and father, but they were just another ice cube atop the glacier of utter apathy he felt towards the silence. There was no color or weight to these still images masquerading as memories of his parents. In fact, looking back on it, he could hardly think of any occasions where his parents were at home; they were as absent in his life as oxygen is in space. 

‘They were at least there for my send off to my first mission’ he thought and for a moment the image of their cheering was clear, although quickly it got muddled with all the other moments they missed. His first slaying? His first defeat? His being apprenticed to Zone Fighter? In none of those vivid tapestries of color and sound that formed Belial’s memories could his parents be found. They had never celebrated any accomplishments he had had with him, never consoled him when he failed. They couldn't even have the decency to visit him in the hospital after he had got beaten half to death by that damned machine! Belial's rage began to smolder once more. First, he had been crushed by a robot he should've been strong enough to beat. Then he had been humiliated by the sanctimonious King, and now he had to go back home alone in his shame. And the final insult of being unable to pick out any memories of his parents on top of all those indignities was the final straw. Why couldn't he be better than this? Stronger than this? Belial knew he was disappointing not only himself, but his teacher, Zone Fighter, and his best friends, Ken & Marie. All of them noble and great heroes who had gone above and beyond the call of duty to support him when he needed it. Belial noticed in some vague corner of his mind that he was sparking with energy now, and moreover that he was not in an appropriate place for that. On any other day, it would have meant nothing. But today, when he had seen Zone Fighter staring as King lectured, it did. Belial cracked his neck and lowered his face, groaning as he held himself back. Perhaps at this point, all he ever could be is a disappointment. But before his thoughts could continue further, a familiar voice behind him stopped him in his tracks.

“Wait up, Belial!” Marie called out. Belial stopped in place, having not realized his old friend was trying to catch up to him. Belial's grumbling halted and his posture shifted to be a little more relaxed as he faced Marie. The slightly shorter Ultra finally caught up to him, hands on her hips and head quirked.

“I’ve been calling you for the past 15 seconds.” she said as she stood by him. Belial winced internally as that fact sunk in. What had he been doing to be so lost in his thoughts? Nothing worthwhile at all. He didn’t deserve friends as loyal as Ken and Marie.

“Oh...I didn’t hear you, sorry, Marie” Belial replied, putting his hand behind his head in embarrassment. Much as the situation was a little awkward, it was also reassuring to have her presence nearby. Marie waved her hand at the apology as the two Ultras began walking with each other, marching across the emerald glass surface beneath them. It would have been easier and faster to fly, and Belial usually did so, but the air traffic had been exceedingly heavy lately. Belial hardly minded it this time; it gave him more time to talk.

“You were sure in a rush. What’s lit a fire under you? Got anything to do at home?” Marie asked.

“Erm, yes, I have something really special planned,” Belial replied quickly, thinking fast. His plans for a raid to the frontier may have been kneecapped by King, but with some quick thinking, Belial came up with a back-up plan. He did still have to mount Megalos, and Marie helping would be a fun enough time, "Yeah, I got to make the place ready for the Big Daddy, you know?”

“Oh, you mean your parents are back?!” Marie chirped in shock, and Belial’s color timer felt like someone had just put a black hole inside of it, "That’s great. Maybe I can finally meet them!” 

Scratch that, a black hole would have been less dense than the weight crushing Belial’s soul. The red Ultra finally shrugged in response to Marie. He didn't need nor want to think about his parents right now. 

“Ah, no, that’s not what I meant…” Belial muttered quietly. He didn’t see Marie’s reaction, staring straight ahead, but he could hear the awkwardness in her tone.

“Oh. Sorry, I just...well, nevermind. But, uhm, while we’re on the subject...how are they? Do you know if they’re gonna be home soon?” Marie asked politely. It was a stupid question. Especially considering it was the same answer every time. 

“Considering they haven't been home for millennia, I doubt it.” Belial replied brusquely, unable to bring himself to modulate his tone when it came to that matter. Marie paused for a moment, before returning with new enthusiasm.

“Well, anyway if you want, my parents are cool with you staying at my place for the night?” Marie suggested diplomatically. Belial contemplated his comrade's offer with a quick look downwards.

On the one hand, he wanted to accept it. Right next to Ken, Marie was his closest friend, if not the closest friend he had. There were times when being with her just made Belial so giddy that he felt like a little kid. Admiration from her was akin to Zone Fighter’s, but coming from a peer rather than a teacher made it feel special somehow. But, even bearing that in mind, the thought of being a charity case for her did not sit right with Belial whatsoever. She and her parents did not need to open their home to him purely because his was empty. If he accepted the offer, it would be tantamount to dumping all of his problems onto her, exposing all of his ugly, hidden weaknesses. It was something he could not stand for her, Ken, or Zone Fighter to ever see again. He dared not let them see it like how he was in the fight with that damned robot or anytime King decided to lecture him about anything. No, he would have to decline the offer, kind though it was.

“You're too kind, Marie, but I'll be fine. You don't really need to worry about-” Belial was cut off by the sound of another Ultra warrior.

“Hey, you two! Zone Fighter called in to say you two got leave early. Something about the pair of you tearing each other apart worse than a pair of scrapping monsters and needing a break,” Ken’s boisterous tone rang out as the horned Ultra landed, "But the joke’s on you, I still got my sparring training with Shin earlier.”

“Mr. Bemular won’t get you anywhere, Ken,” Belial grunted, giving Ken the secret fist bump and having the horned Ultra respond in kind. In a way, Belial was glad for Ken’s interruption. He had a way of making people feel better, with how the good cheer never left his attitude. Even if it sometimes became a little too preachy. 

“Hey, Ken. So, that’s what you were up to? Fighting school teachers? What a bully,” Marie joked, playfully punching Ken’s shoulder.

“Well, I did do a little more than that. I talked to Cleric some more after Belial left.”

“Who’s Cleric?”

“Some windbag guard at the Plasma Spark Tower,” Belial huffed. 

“Hey, it’s a really good wind, I tell you. Now he can tell you a story or two!” Ken said, making a gesture with his arms to indicate the breadth of Cleric’s knowledge. 

“I’d rather we make our own stories,” Marie replied, flicking her braids. 

“I can do that AND tell Cleric’s stories at your house. If the invitation I heard about is open for two,” Ken said smoothly, making finger guns and blowing on them. Belial and Marie both laughed at the feigned cockiness, the former with a little more tension. 

“It could just be open for one, honestly. You can take this one, Ken. I’m heading back home to crash,” Belial said quietly, gazing at the floor. It would be for the better if Ken took the invitation, personable and strong as ever. Ken deserved it, and so did Marie, the two heroes of Paira. Belial, the failure of Paira, did not. Belial turned on his heel, ready to press on back to his home. 

“Hey, hey, Marie’s place is wicked though. It’s loaded with all of the latest interstellar dramas and communicators. No offense to your house, Belial, but the place is more like a museum than a home,” Ken said in a tone of friendliness, putting a hand on Belial’s shoulder, "Why not crash somewhere cool? And with someone so out of our league as Marie?”

“Damn right I am. But I would be able to let two of you guys stay at my home, easy,” Marie teased. Belial looked back at his friends, their genuine care making its way deep into his core. Maybe, just for today, it would be alright to take them up on their invitation. After all, he had done a good job with Zone Fighter’s children, Leo, and Astra, hadn’t he? This was not undeserved. 

“Well...alright. But you’ll be helping me mount Megalos later,” Belial said, finally caving in. It hurt to do so, but felt liberating all the same. Just for one day, it would be just fine by him to take in that liberty. 

“Oh by the Light, is that what you meant by Big Daddy?” Marie gawped.

“It’ll be there more than my ‘real’ parents are, so why not?” Belial said coolly. Upon noticing the sudden silence from his friends, he added in a short, sardonic chuckle, "That was a joke. Oh stars, you’re acting like it’s a funeral.” With a laugh from his friends, Belial followed them towards a well deserved break. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cermin slowly walked around the perameter of Outpost 66, glowing eyes scanning everything carefully. This outpost was a remote bunker on a planet with an atmosphere that was barely present and an earthquake ridden landscape, but it was still valuable as a vantage point over many relatively nearby alien settlements. With how things had been going lately, they had to be vigilant. 

Guarde stayed by his side, the ever loyal kaiju never straying far as he acted as his master's second set of eyes. He sniffed the air every now and then, searching for traces of monster scent. However, in this world’s thin atmosphere, it was not a talent that yielded much use.

"Sir?"

Cermin spun around, finding a member of his squad staring up at him. He was a red Ultra with more muscle than most, "Yes, Uno?"

"I completed my analysis of the surrounding area, no sign of threat so far," said the younger Ultra professionally, "Satu is worried we need to reinforce our right flank though."

"I'll have to talk to him about that," Cermin replied, the group continuing along through the base. Ultras busied themselves with various observation and communication devices, ready for attacks anywhere in the sector closest to the encroaching darkness. It'd be near impossible to take them by surprise with the litany of communication systems scattered across the rocky planet, and Cermin intended to make sure that any surprises they did receive were welcomed with a blast to the face. He looked up, seeing a blue Ultra from his squad, Ichi, flying overhead on aerial surveillance detail. Ichi loved being in the sky and was the fastest Ultra here, so it was a natural choice to have him guard the skies from any aerial attack.

The final Ultra of his squad, a red Ultra named Satu walked along the walls of the pill-shaped, massive bunker that Cermin’s squad was manning, keeping a vigilant eye out for anything strange. He was an observant one if Cermin had ever seen one. An Ultra of few words, but who made every one count.

"Anything else?" asked Cermin to Satu.

"Last patrol should've been back a while ago," said the younger Ultra. 

"I hope they didn't run into trouble." Cermin had faith in his men, but these were uneasy times. Especially after one of their main colonies was destroyed not long ago. The promise he had made to the young Astra still burned within his mind and he clenched his fist. The butchery of an Ultra world had been unprecedented, and Cermin aimed to insure it would remain the exception rather than the rule.

"Sir! Uno! The patrol's back! They've got wounded!" called Ichi suddenly as he flew down from above.

"E.T.A.?"

"About a minute." 

Cermin’s squad rushed to the wall overlooking the gates of the outpost as fast as they could, skidding to a stop as the patrol group of five Ultras approached, one of their number bleeding light and not moving as he was dragged by his comrades by his arms..

"What happened out there?!" Cermin shouted, giving a gesture for all hands to get ready in case it was the first blow of an invasion. 

"Meteor impact, poor guy didn't see it coming," replied the Ultra carrying the wounded one, "Let us in! He's almost gone!" The patrol received no response but impassive gazes from the Ultras within the bunker, many preparing beams already, "Please!” the patrol member shrieked, and the agony in his voice could have drawn tears from a stone, "My brother’s dying!” More than a few of the guards glanced at each other, their willingness to hold these poor Ultras at beam point shaking.

Cermin continued to stare, shooting a glare at a few of the guard Ultras who had lowered their hands and making them return to a ready position. 

“What’s the passcode?” Cermin growled gruffly, unwilling to bend on security. No matter how hard it might be, or how many might call him harsh for it, the frontier was kept safe by strict adherence to security rules. Even for his fellow Ultras, these rules would not bend.

“It’s...it’s...B18-Alpha!” one of the patrol members shouted. Cermin looked over them with a hawk’s gaze one more time, then flicked his wrist. The guards stood down and the gates opened, accompanied by gracious cheers from the patrol. Medics were immediately there to greet them, asking them all kinds of questions which were answered in shaky panic by the group while they supported their friend. 

“Back to your stations,” Cermin called out to the Ultras attempting to look at the scene, and soon enough they had dispersed back to their commanding positions in the air or on the bunker. Only once most had gone did Cermin allow his shoulders to sag and his hands to pet Guarde’s back, soothing both the kaiju and himself. 

“There’s a first time for everything, Guarde. I just hope this will be the last time I have to do that too,” Cermin murmured to his companion, getting a sympathetic growl from the guard monster which put his soul to rest. Following a short sigh, he was back to business, "Satu, get a report back for me!”

Satu nodded and looked at the Ultras being assessed by the medics. The medics were muttering in shock over how lucky they must have been to avoid being struck as badly as their friend. It was all very dense medical jargon that Satu did not bother to understand; he’d ask for a simplified summary once they were finished. One of the medics suddenly shook his head and let out a mournful tut.

“I’m sorry, his color timer’s crushed. There’s not much we can do for him...I just don’t understand how a meteor could have done this,” the medic said, sweeping his hand over the wounded Ultra’s chest. What had appeared to be merely a few impact wounds at a glance was, in all reality, a caved-in chest with the color timer smashed to bits. Satu winced in pity for the dead Ultra’s comrades; they must feel such guilt. And yet, as he looked at them, he saw...nothing. Not even anger or happiness, just a dead void of any kind of emotion as they were told of their friend’s death. No Ultra could be so empty of light. Their cold indifference chilled the air and sent Satu walking backwards, chills going down his spine. He sped up as he heard the medics’ own confusion, racing for Cermin desperately.

“A-are you alright?” the head medic asked. He was too late to recognize the spine chilling aura that Satu had noticed to save his head from rolling across the floor, separated from his spine by a wicked glaive. 

"It's a trap!" Satu screamed, barely tackling Cermin out of the way as one of the Ultras behind him threw a spear towards Cermin. Cermin and Satu both rolled on the ground, shrouded in an explosion of sparks as the spear struck into a generator powering the gate and caused it to explode. Another spear followed its impact quickly, pinning the Ultra manning the gate communication station to the wall by his color timer. Whatever life he had left in him was ended as the glaive wielding Ultra sliced his head off. The other Ultras were no less savage in their attack, grabbing guards stupefied by the display of violence against the medics and stabbing black daggers through their throats.

"What is this?!" Cermin gaped, his great experience on the battlefield being the only thing keeping him from a full-on panic. He got his answer as the 'Ultras' forms flickered and revealed red eyes for a moment that were anything but Ultra.

“FOR THE EMPEROR!” shouted their glaive wielding leader, slashing the communication station to ribbons with his weapon before charging deeper into the base. As the shock within him was dominated by professionalism, Cermin almost found room to scoff had the situation not been so grim. Four terrorist aliens with a few scavenged black metal weapons and they thought they could take down Outpost 66? It was like a bad joke.

Then the sky shattered. Not as a figure of speech or exaggeration, literally shattered. The vista of stars and meteors above the planet warped and snapped away as space was forcibly violated, pierced, and finally torn to shreds by a force so powerful that Cermin felt like his innards were being ripped out of him by its mere presence. There were no words that could describe the fourth-dimensional void disgorging...something above the base, as if giving birth. The void pulsed, and then it laughed. Screamed, really. 

“It’s Yapool!” someone shouted in panic.

As if on cue, a massive form filled the sky, like a giant, black hand grasping the entire planet with its curved claws. 

"Ambush!" Cermin bellowed, trying to bring control to the catastrophically bad situation. The Ultras in the base prepared to strike back, but without a moment's warning, a series of powerful meteor-like projectiles slammed into the base, blowing holes through its thick walls while its defenses were down. Smoke and fire so hot even the Ultras burned in it engulfed the base as the ear-popping barrage of fireballs from the air continued to discharge its payload in simultaneous shots, sending Ultras flying through the air and covered in flames.

Cermin looked up through the haze as he by sheer luck managed to remain steady, seeing a figure hovering in the air that was discharging the fireballs from several portals flanking him. The figure’s burning-red, cyclopic eye peered back down at Cermin. Cermin instantaneously recalled the figure as matching the description that Astra had given him and prepared to fly up, a cry of vengeance burning within his soul.

The Deathre gave a low laugh, "Just as I anticipated. Two minutes and fifty seven seconds to have these Ultra mongrels routed." Cermin was about to spit a witty retort when a howling monster, all armored scales and cybernetically implanted missile racks crashed down right next to him. And it wasn’t the only one. From the multi-colored void, legions of monsters came pouring out to rain down upon the vulnerable base as the titanic hand shaped craft above lowered down what resembled its claws, countless tendrils slithering from the underside of the spacecraft to tether on the ground. The tubes acted as even more gateways for kaiju to land down on the surface to invade. This was no mere terrorist attack, Cermin realized with horror as the horde streamed towards the bunker. 

"Orders, sir!" Satu asked grimly, preparing for battle with as much courage as any could have asked..

"...Hold the line for at least a moment. We need reinforcements!" Cermin clenched his fist and rushed to the ruined communications array, delivering a jump kick to one of the intruders to put them on the ground. He did some quick welding of tech with an energy beam, painfully aware of the inadequacy of his job. It wouldn’t be reaching the Land of Light with the signal amplifier destroyed, but maybe one of the other bunkers on the planet could be saved, or send the message themselves. 

"This is Outpost 66 Command! This is not a drill! The planet is-"

However, before he could finish, he heard innumerable signals coming in from all over the planet.

"Monsters! They're all over the city, there's too many of them!"

"They're breaking through the walls! We're being slaughtered!"

"Somebody please help us!"

"Where is the Commander!?"

Cermin felt the light running through his veins turn to ice. This wasn't an attack on them. It was an attack on the entire world. All at once. How? Their deep space sensors should've picked this up long before it arrived! Then his mind flashed to the void above them. If they had used Yapool’s dimension as a shortcut...

Before he could continue his thoughts, he caught movement out of the corner of his eye and barely evaded a spear thrust from one of the imposter Ultras. Catching the spear shaft, he pulled the intruder past him and right into position for a back kick to the spine, stumbling his opponent as Cermin disarmed the imposter. Cermin brought his arms close to his chest before swinging them, creating a blade of energy that launched towards his opponent's neck. The invader was decapitated by the attack, and their body collapsed with just a few twitches. Having finished off his enemy. Cermin quickly rushed out just in time to see Uno, Satu, and Ichi use a combined beam to obliterate another imposter who'd assumed his form. 

Satu looked at him and nodded, "Knew that wasn't you. He carried himself too loosely."

"The entire planet's under attack! Ultra Sign, now!" 

The four all prepared to launch one, only to take note of an unnatural darkness spreading out over the sky, preventing such a tactic. Even Yapool’s abyss was obscured by the miasma of choking black smog, engulfing the skies above the giant ship in its dark embrace. All of it emanated from a black figure floating in the sky, darkness radiating out from them like the heart of a black hole. Though the team stood far away from the figure, they could feel the crushing weight of the being's power as it commanded the darkness to consume the once clear sky of the planet. 

“What is that?” Cermin had faced Yapool before and felt the extra-dimensional being’s malefic aura, back when the choju ran rampant. Whatever the dark being was, it felt even worse still. 

At a tiny gesture from the dark being, the Deathre was accompanied by three other shapes and they all descended down onto the planet’s surface. Shrouded in darkness, they looked like the four harbingers of the apocalypse.

Cermin could tell that they were going to be overrun the very moment that the dark being moved and its four chief minions showed themselves. The holes the Deathre had blown in their defenses were already letting the army of kaiju flood the base like it was a leaking ship. It wasn't a matter of if they would lose the base, but a matter if they'd live long enough to do anything about it, "Everyone! Fall back! We need to get past that darkness and warn the Land of Light!"

The quartet ran as Guarde joined them, trying to gather whoever they could as they fought through the army of kaiju and kaijin invading. But Cermin was forced to realize they would just have to run for it around the time that the arm of someone he was pulling out of the rubble shortly became a disembodied arm as a trio of choju sated their ravenous hunger on the trapped Ultra. Cermin jerked back from the carnage and shouted to his team.

“Ignore the rescues, we have to move!”

"We can't leave the others behind!" Uno exclaimed, wincing at the dying screams all around them. Cermin thanked his lucky stars that the others were more sensible and talked Uno down.

Ichi put a hand on his shoulder, "If we are overrun, many more might die. They're fighting to the last man, we can't let them die in vain…" he forced himself to say. Uno clenched his fist before punching an Eleking to come up behind him so hard its skull was caved in as its corpse crashed into a wall, grunting his choked affirmation.

Cermin blew a hole in the wall and they ran. Unfortunately, it seemed that their foes had expected this and they were met with another deluge of monsters. Cermin caught a swing from a Magmanian's sword, punching it in the chest so hard its ribs audibly cracked. As the alien staggered back, Guarde charged energy into his teeth. With a ferocious bark, Guarde sunk his fangs into the alien’s throat, energy discharging through his body until the heroic monster threw him into the crowd and the Magmanian exploded. The explosion blasted away the rest of the kaiju with the shockwave, creating an opening for the Ultras. 

"Run!" Cermin ordered, taking advantage of the monsters’ ranks having been disrupted by the blast for them to poke through the hole and run. Fighting with every passing moment, the group searched for any remaining clear sky to get off an Ultra Sign but the darkness seemed to move as fast as they could fight through the monsters. And it wasn’t just darkness now, as flying kaiju and alien airships collided with the Ultras that had been patrolling the air. Ultras were encoiled in monstrous tentacles of saucer-like monsters before point blank, concentrated plasma fire from alien capital ships to their color timers had them falling to the ground in a stupor, where the choju got to ravage them.

"At this rate we won't have enough energy left to create the Ultra Sign!" Uno yelled, gathering red energy between his hands as he pulled them over his color timer before throwing his hands forward in a red beam that obliterated an Eleking. But another Eleking just leapt forward to replace it, firing a bolt of lightning which winged Uno’s shoulder and caused him to cry out, "We have to shoot it now!”

Satu looked over the entire battle field, trying to find a place to shoot the Ultra Sign, "If we shoot the sign here, there’s no way it’s getting past the darkness," he muttered, crossing his arms in front and spreading them as energy charged before putting them into a L shape and destroying an Imperializer robot whose armor was already half-melted by Cermin. Cermin looked around desperately, knowing the truth in that statement. He was proud of his squad, but they were losing ground with each passing second. The only place to guarantee an Ultra sign would be as close to the darkness in the sky as possible so as to give it the best chances of puncturing the black fog. The sky was out of the question for as long as the enemy maintained air superiority, so it would have to be a mountain peak. The answer became crystal clear then

"...I'll hold them off, you three fly away. Don't launch the sign. I will."

"What?!" Uno asked.

"If you three get away, it'll be delayed but you can still send one far away enough that they can't follow you, should I fail," Cermin replied, keeping his voice as calm as possible for his pupils’ sake.

"Let me stay, you all go!" the young Ultra replied.

"I admire your selflessness, but I have greater stamina than any of you. Therefore, I have the best chance. Have faith in your master!" Cermin replied. He pulled his arms to his side and spread them out before bringing them in across his chest, energy charging. Putting his arms into an L shape, he let loose a massive beam of energy to blast a hole in the monsters' air support. Explosions covered the sky as the fleet took a huge blow, and there was no doubt now that every monster and airship present would be coming for him. But they might just fail to notice the three young Ultras flying through the explosion’s trail, "Now go!" 

The three stared for a moment, then slowly nodded and took off. Cermin sighed as he watched his men fly off into the atmosphere. They were the finest soldiers he had the honor of serving with, but the only thing he could do for them now was be a distraction for them. And maybe give their homeland a chance to prepare. Cermin scanned the landscape around him, looking for the most ideal place to broadcast the signal. He sighted a particularly tall mountain, which he’d heard the soldiers label as Mt. Eiji. The peak was high enough that if he rushed, he could no doubt punch through the dark smog covering the planet. Still, he could not ignore the vast horde of countless kaiju that stood between him & his goal. It would be a daunting task, one that he was not likely to survive. But there would be no turning back when the stakes were so high.

Cermin turned and shared a nod with Guarde, scratching the monster’s ears one last time.

“Are you with me, boy?” he murmured softly to the creature, "I need your strength.” Guarde answered by way of barking confidently before snarling at the horde before them. Cermin mustered a shred of optimism into his weary voice and cried out, “Come on!”.

Cermin tore up the ground as he charged through the air with Guarde’s wild barks at his side, rushing against a battalion of monsters that went to intercept them. Cermin held back nothing as he punched, kicked, and fired energy rays through the massive crush of slobbering maws and burning plasma that tried to stop him. Blood of all colors covered him, and not just the blood of the monsters. Strong as he was, legendary as he was, he could feel their blasts searing his skin and their claws ripping it open so light bled from him freely. In the chaos of the battlefield, the only thing he could focus on was Mt. Eiji and Guarde’s snarling as his companion gave no less than he. Cermin fired a ray at a choju which caused it to fall over, and its body in his path made him stumble. It was only blind luck which caused his stumble to save him from a decapitating strike from an armored Mefilasian. 

Before the Mefliasian could launch a follow up, Cermin leapt forwards, attempting to punch him in the face. It was sloppy, borne of exhaustion and desperation. The Mefilasian dodged easily, and Cermin was a second too late to react to a roundhouse kick from him that promptly bowled him over. Cermin struggled to get back up, but the world was fuzzy all around him, and even Guarde’s roaring sounded far away. But through his dulling lenses he could see the rocky terrain below his hands; he had made it to the mountain’s base. He was almost there! With agonizing slowness, Cermin grasped onto a nearby rock formation and hauled himself up, giving himself a brief assessment of his wounds. He had more cuts and burns than he could count, but nothing vital was struck yet. With a defiant grunt, he held up his fists at the Mefilasian.

His armored foe gave a somewhat impressed look, "You are willing to die then? Your resolve is commendable, but I must do as my master wills." Cermin struggled to muster up energy into his hands, but they felt about as responsive as iron blocks. Even the horde of monsters seemed to sense there was no need to help their general, simply cheering and roaring at the spectacle of seeing the Mefilasian in action as though watching a gladiatorial game. Just as the Mefilasian charged, a blur of brown and gray tooth and claw latched onto his arm. 

“Guarde!” Cermin cried out gratefully, as his pet fought through an ugly scorch on his side. The kaiju thrashed to maul the kaijin's limb, but the Mefilasian's armor held strong against Guarde's fangs. He didn’t even cry out, merely kicking the benevolent kaiju away like punting away a ball. Cermin caught Guarde’s flying form, skidding to a stop and giving his beloved Guarde a few scratches of gratitude. 

The Mefilasian merely stared at his arm and the writhing horde of monsters cheering him for a moment before looking back at the rising Cermin and Guarde. "Neither of you intend to survive. You have succeeded in your duty then. I will grant you a warrior's death." Raising his sword, he charged energy into it, preparing to take their heads with his energized blade. Right as he began to swing, Cermin put his fists to his color timer and unleashed a massive, rainbow colored flash of light that blinded the Mefilasian. When the flash died down, the two were gone. The Mefilasian prepared to pursue them without question, only for his Deathre compatriot to lower down next to him.

"I know you're busy being humiliated," the Deathre stated, seeming to enjoy this, "But you are needed in the eastern sector. Take the army with you too. The Zettonians' pet has already been deployed to deal with those two worms."

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cermin flew ahead, Guarde fighting the few wounded, straggler kaiju who had been unable to join the Mefilasian in marching to the east. Better for Guarde to stay down there, relatively safe and far from Cermin. The poor guard monster was so wounded, Cermin knew he couldn’t take another battle. Cermin was almost to the peak. If he just made it a little further, he could-

"Z-Ton…"

Hearing a deep sound, he turned right as a fireball slammed into his chest and sent him crashing hard to the ground. Forcing himself up, he saw a towering form resembling a bipedal beetle, 120 meters tall. Its 'face' glowed with fire while two large, yellow spots on its chest illuminated its body. An alpha predator from Planet Zetton's ancient past brought back in the modern day as their ultimate weapon blocked his way now. The creature emitted no other sound and slowly, methodically approached the downed Ultra.

Cermin struggled back up and punched the beast in the chest, only for the creature to not even react. Several more blows were met with the same result, powerful enough in even this state to knock out a few kaiju teeth, but the kaiju before him shrugged them off like it was nothing. The monster finally launched out its hand and latched around his throat, lifting him into the air with one arm before chokeslamming him down into the ground so hard it left a crater. 

Cermin faded in and out of consciousness as the behemoth slammed him into the ground over and over again. He was dying, that much he knew with horrifying certainty as the blows kept on coming. Cermin cried out as he felt his ribs cracking from the force. Finally, the creature lifted him overhead like a toy and threw him several hundred meters through a row of rock formations. The Ultra forced himself to his feet as light started streaming down from multiple wounds reopening and charged up his energy beam with what power he could manage. Before he could fire, The creature merely put its arms to its side and vanished. Before he could react, Cermin heard the sound that would give the creature its name directly behind him.

"Z-Ton."

Cermin found himself struck with a fireball resulting in an explosion several times his size. Cermin blacked out as he was sent flying through the air by the blast and crashing back into the ground. His color timer, which had so nobly tried to stay blue, now turned red. Whatever consciousness he tried to muster up just swam back into the black, the burns hurting less when he wasn’t conscious. But Zetton would not let him have that peace. Zetton teleported right on top of him and pinned his arms down with a heavy foot. The massive creature reached down and grabbed his color timer, squeezing so hard Cermin heard it begin to crack. Cermin’s life flashed before his eyes and it was all he could do to refrain from giving Zetton the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

Just as his timer was about to shatter, a large shape pounced on Zetton's back and bit into him. Zetton recoiled instantly, flailing with his arms at his back to try to peel off his unseen enemy. But his attacker refused to let him, just deepening the bite into Zetton’s shoulder. Finally, Zetton fired a fireball into the mountainside at point blank range, letting the fire sear over both himself and his attacker and sending the latter crashing off of him.

"Guarde!" Cermin yelled, the snarls of his pet rousing him. He struggled to move to fight with his best friend, but a look from Guarde stopped him in his tracks. No words were needed between them for Cermin to know what he had to do next. Guarde could not launch an Ultra Sign; it had to be Cermin. 

“Good boy…”

Unable to look back, Cermin launched back up from the ground towards the mountain peak. Guarde did not disappoint in his own role, charging Zetton fearlessly. Cermin winced upon hearing Guarde yelp in pain behind him, but didn’t stop. He had to keep going forward no matter what.

He soon reached the mountaintop. All the way up high, he could see the chaos all over the land. Cities burned as choju swarmed the streets, preying on whatever hapless Ultra or innocents they could find. On another corner of the planet, Cermin saw a veritable wasteland of frost, all manner of beings frozen lifeless. His heart ached at the horrific sight of seeing the world he swore to protect be torn down so ruthlessly, but he had little time to grieve. He may not be able to avenge them now, but with this next action, he’d make sure others could. He steeled himself, and prepared to fire the Ultra Sign. All of their sacrifices weren't in vain. His lenses began to dim as his timer’s buzzing reached a near constant whine. Weakened as he was, Cermin didn't notice the large shape flying towards him until it was too late. A massive pair of talons sunk into his flesh as Cermin was briefly lifted up into the air before slamming back into the mountain with incredible strength. Cermin found himself being grinded against the mountainside, creating a deep groove as he was dragged across the peak violently. He crashed upon the ground with such force as to nearly split the peak with a hundred meter long fissure

The beast that blindsided Cermin picked up the Ultra by his arms with two maws. And Cermin found himself staring at a golden dragon with scarlet eyes filled with pure evil. It was like a cruel cosmic joke; King Ghidorah, the boogeyman of the universe joining forces with Yapool and Light knows what other old children's tale that wanted to pop out of the woodworks. Cermin would have laughed, if he didn’t feel like his spine would break from the strain. The King of Terror peered into Cermin's lenses, and scoffed.

"What were you hoping to accomplish, Ultra? Prepare your people for war?" Ghidorah grinned cruelly with his middle head, nearing up to Cermin’s lolling, barely stable one, "You failed,” King Ghidorah laughed, shaking Cermin’s arms in his jaws, unable to get into the proper position to fire the Ultra sign. The pain Cermin felt was unbearable, uncountable bones cracked, muscles torn, and color timer screaming at him that he wasn't going to last any longer. The tyrannical dragon's words sunk in with an agony even worse than all of these. Cermin’s dulling lenses were jolted back to consciousness by that pain, and he saw the carnage below the mountain and heard Guarde’s last cries as Zetton beat his best friend to death. All of it for nothing? It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t let it!

"Yo-you… won't… WIN!" Cermin screamed as he thrashed about helplessly like a fly in a web in the dragon's grasp. Ghidorah just gave a cruel laugh at the Ultra's desperatate flailing against him. So full of sadistic mirth was the King of Terror that for just an instant in his cackling, the iron grip of his jaws on Cermin's arms loosened slightly. And an instant was all Cermin needed. He yanked back his right arm with as much force as he could, ripping apart his muscles as he tugged with all of the strength of a trapped animal. He couldn’t pry open Ghidorah’s jaws...but he could make his flesh yield. With a horrible explosion of golden light-blood from his arm and a wild warcry, Cermin shredded his right arm down to the bone as he ripped it out of King Ghidorah’s needle teeth. It hurt like no pain he had felt before, but seeing red, Cermin didn’t even notice it. His bloody arm was a nimbus of white energy, every last scrap of energy in his color timer going into it. He roared as he thrust his fist forward, right into Ghidorah’s smug, still unworried face. No, not his face; the tyrant’s eye. 

The thundering scream from King Ghidorah blew out Cermin's ears as it boomed for miles around, and even so it couldn’t stop Cermin fromhearing a nasty squishining noise with satisfaction as his mangled hand rammed straight into one of the dragon’s scarlet eyes on his middle head. King Ghidorah dropped Cermin like he was hot, howling his humiliation and agony to the heavens as one of his eyes on his middle head streamed blood and alien goo. King Ghidorah screamed and thrashed his heads about, unable to keep himself from blinking wildly as he tried to flush the damage from his eye. Cermin lay on the ground, in the utmost satisfaction in spite of the fact that his blow had not been fatal nor even crippling. It had still hurt. Maybe in the end it was barely a moment’s inconvenience for his foe, but enough of one for Cermin’s left arm to shoot an Ultra Sign upwards.  
.  
A pillar of light erupted into the sky, beaming towards the far reaches of outer space. The darkness in the sky surrounded it, trying to smother it, but as far up as he had gotten, the black miasma was finally pierced as the message cleared it. Cermin slumped back, unable to make his limbs move anymore. It was his victory. But King Ghidorah had his revenge in savage fashion. 

The Hydra snarled as he lunged upon the prone Ultra, each of his three maws latching onto a limb of Cermin's. The dragon's fangs started rending the Ultra's flesh as Cermin was brutally pounded back into the trench. He didn't even have the strength to cry as he was thrashed in Ghidorah's jaws. And slammed back down into the earth, again, and again, and again. His color timer didn't even whine anymore, just turned a dull maroon as he was smashed by the enraged King of Terror. But the sensation felt oh so far away. Even the mountain's hard impacts with his back felt distant from Cermin now. No, the only sensation that stood out in the dying haze of his mind was the feeling of his fingers on Guarde's back.

"I'll see you soon, boy..."

\--------------------------------------------------------

The Ultra who had wounded Ghidorah lay on the ground in a barely recognizable mess of cuts and bruises, finally being dropped from Ghidorah's grip. But that wasn't enough to sate his revenge. Ghidorah snorted as energy started rising up his necks, and glowing out his maws, gravitons practically erupting off of him. He prepared to fire his graviton beams until a voice cut in at this moment.

"Whoa, might want to ease up. He's already dead for fuck's sake," Genoa stated as he looked bemusedly at the morbid scene. He looked at Ghidorah’s bleeding eye socket and laughed. "Hahaha. You know, in my calculations I never expected you’d become King of the Pirates.”

Ghidorah growled and started blasting at Genoa with his built up energy. The Deathre cursed as he dodged the torrents of gravitons, dancing back from the explosions on the ground near him.

"Okay, point taken," Genoa winced at the glaring countenance of the Dragon. The liquid light dripping from the bared fangs and blazing vermilion eyes with one of them blinking constantly and weeping blood gave Ghidorah a more beastly appearance than usual as the dragon returned to savaging Cermin’s limp form. He mauled the Ultra like a dog with a bone, shaking his smaller form back and forth in his jaws.

"Razing the city provided such a fantastic light show on this planet," Yapool chimed in, approaching the peak in the form of the tortured Ultra and accompanied by Grozam & Zetton, "And you should have heard the other Ultras scream, their despair was splendid music!"

"Typical," Faust grunted as he landed down from the now completely blackened sky, "Regardless, over 90% of the Ultra force on Outpost 66 has been eliminated."

"It's at 100% with this last one. Unfortunately, the Zettonians’ pet here couldn't intercept the runaway in time before he sent the Ultra Sign," Genoa sighed as he facepalmed, "Which means invading the Land of Light will be that more of a hassle."

"Still, it did get the pooch. Do tell me the details of how painfully it died! What did you see in its eyes as the light faded away?" Yapool leaned forward into Zetton, eagerly awaiting the Kaiju's answer. But there was none, Zetton merely stood there in stoic silence before dropping Guarde’s crushed, bloody color timer onto the ground. Yapool huffed at the lack of response, "Hmph! You're no better than Ice Queen here."

"Har… har…" Grozam laughed wryly, rattling the heads of a few Ultras he had shish-kebabed on his ice blade. He then gave an annoyed sigh as he looked at Cermin, "From...the...sound...of...it...I...wish...I'd...gotten...to...that...one...he looked tough…"

"We should report back to the ship, and prepare the next invasion," Faust stated professionally.

"You're right. Let's go, boys! That means you too, Five-Eyes!" Genoa yelled. Ghidorah gave a murderous look to the Deathre and finally dropped Cermin. As all prepared to leave, a twitch from the prone Ultra startled them. "He's still alive!? WHAT THE FUCK?!?" Genoa groaned exasperatedly.

Yapool gave an irritated groan, "And he feels no regret or fear at his pain! Blech! Tainting such wonderful pain with such weakshit emotions! What's the point in being alive in such a state if he's too fucked up to even suffer? Where's the pleasure?!"

“He won’t be,” Ghidorah growled venomously to Genoa as he went to pick up the Ultra before hurling him right up to the sky at a remarkable distance with his tremendous strength. Ghidorah's mouths lit up and then blasted Cermin’s barely moving form in the air with a combined torrent of gravitons. It sent the Ultra's body flying past the atmosphere, barely missing some of their own ships, and to the depths of space before being engulfed by the explosion of the King of Terror's wrath. He then shot Genoa a glare, making certain the Deathre saw his destroyed eye was beginning to knit itself back together, if slowly. Genoa managed to avoid externally showing fear.

"That was excessive," Faust spoke disapprovingly as he leveled a glare at the hydra. A warrior as brave as that Ultra deserved to be remembered; not merely hurled into space and blown apart in a childish tantrum. Ghidorah glanced back at the Mefilasian before going on his way back to the Malebrandes."You have no honor," Faust muttered behind Ghidorah's back.

"Honor is but a crutch for those less evolved to stand on their own," Ghidorah replied dispassionately as all flew back to the Malebrandes.  
==============================


End file.
